In My Life
by shadierplatypus
Summary: She still remembers the day of the explosion, debris raining around her and the smell of destruction so permeating, so frightening. Death was so despicable, so final. As a world-renowned doctor, death was never allowed to be an option. But it was, and it was an open, gaping wound, never truly able to heal.
1. So Close, So Far

There are times that she thinks she hears the noise again, that deafening boom of a falling building. It may have been the most unique, horrifying noise that she ever experienced, but it haunted her even years later. If only she had known that the fight would have escalated the way that it did. If only she had intervened in time to prevent their deaths—

But then, there was no way to change things. Jack and Gabriel were two forces almost destined to collide. Especially as time continued on and as Overwatch lost its support at an alarming rate, Angela felt hopeless against the conflict. The three of them had been friends for a long time; who could have ever seen such a tragedy taking place? Now Angela was alone, and the only help she had left to offer was for the innocent civilians of the world.

Turmoil across the globe had been growing with every passing day of Overwatch's disbandment. Needless violence and danger was rampant in any place one decided to go; Angela was helpless to stop it. She settled for coming to the aid of those who sought out her medical expertise, using her skills and knowledge for the benefit of those who didn't deserve to live in such a place. Right after the death of Jack and Gabriel, in fact, she found herself traveling anywhere and everywhere she could.

But first, there had to be the funeral.

Oh God, it was such a kick in the gut.

Reinhardt's words still resonated within her, how he spoke so fondly of Jack even as the people of the world scrutinized him and Overwatch. She still cringes to think of all that went wrong during their last months together, and she still aches to remember that his body was never found, that he couldn't even be laid to rest. Angela wasn't a particularly religious person but it felt so deeply wrong that she couldn't give a last goodbye. As if his spirit would never know rest.

And sometimes she really thought she would see him out of the corner of her eye. She'd be walking down a road and see the top of a blond head, only to chase after it as it disappeared like a ghost. Of course she would grow out of this habit, soon learning that as time went on, she only seemed more and more like she had lost her grip on reality. Jack was dead. Her best friend was dead. His body was probably blown into nothingness. There was no chance he could ever come back.

This morbid kind of thinking was at least a bit of a comfort for the doctor, who simply had to move on. It was selfish to dwell on something and let herself waste away at the loss when she could use her abilities for the greater good. Perhaps she could have saved some of that compassion for herself, but Angela simply couldn't see the purpose in doing so. So she traveled the world in search of a place to be of aid.

She convinced herself that her years spent dedicated to others would be the penitence she needed after her loss. Although she both publicly and privately stated that such a conflict was unavoidable, she still blamed herself to some degree; as did many others. The faces of Overwatch became controversial and typically linked with negativity, even as those like Angela did their best to make a positive influence. The fact of the matter was that the world had lost all of their trust in the fallen heroes, and not much of anything could have prevented that or could take that back.

And then there were the thefts of Overwatch artifacts.

The thieves were probably just trying to make money, Angela figured, or were people in search of technology that could give them an advantage in the rather dangerous world that Earth turned out to be. She did, however, worry about the possibility that those people would be making the world more dangerous. Out of concern, she contacted Winston, who could give her nothing more than a simple description of the suspected vigilante.

"They're thinking it's a person who's military-trained, and careful not to be seen by too many people. But there's simply nothing we can do," he said to her in a video chat, seeming distraught in his own way, but accepting of the way things turned out. They weren't a task force anymore; they had no say or power in what happened to their old equipment.

"Are you sure?" Visibly distraught, Angela tried to think of some sort of solution. "You can't craft some tracker or other device-?"

"I'm sorry Mercy. Please keep yourself safe, and don't get too involved in this. We have no idea what this person is capable of."

So she did just that. She kept herself as safe as she could, which included dodging the rather violent Overwatch protesters in the places she went, and trying not to bring too much attention to herself. The latter could only work to an extent, as she was an incredibly gifted doctor, so she settled for moving on from an area every few weeks. A nomadic lifestyle was simple in some ways and troubling in others. She kept very little belongings. She tried not to make too many friends so as to minimize the difficulty in leaving places behind. She kept her head out of the media, who had absolutely attempted to follow her around and document "The Afterlives of the Overwatch Heroes."

At one point she had to fly to a rather scantily populated region to escape the publicity. After successfully dodging reporters and paparazzi alike, they had finally cornered her on the top floor of a restricted hospital in Germany. She had to give it to them, they had quite a lot of guts to stage a life-threatening surgery, which was how they were admitted in the first place.

"Mercy! Can you tell us about the whereabouts of your Overwatch companions?"

"What-? Get out of here!" she had commanded, but the fake patient rose from the operating table and took out a recording device from under his gown. She was rushing to the door as he made the motion to record their conversation, but one of the fake nurses grabbed her by the arms to hold her in place.

"You continue to operate on people even though Overwatch has disbanded, so does this mean that your soldiers are continuing to conduct missions that result in the torture and murder of innocent civilians in impoverished countries?"

The reporter got out a small notepad, ready to jot down notes in addition to his audio recording. The second fake nurse revealed a camera from beneath his scrubs, and she really wonders how in the hell they managed to find her, let alone get into a restricted hospital.

"Let me go-"

"In fact, your very own soldiers had killed themselves in their own violent efforts, so will this mean that your so-called heroes will destroy even more places and people?"

"No! Get out!" she was beginning to panic. The first nurse's grip on her arms was really starting to ache. Her struggling was getting her nowhere.

"And what about weapon development? We know that you've been operating in secret, so does this mean you'll also further your development of projects that aid in your Blackwatch operations?"

She glared at the speaker. "We're done here. Get out of this hospital. You've entered illegally and you'll be jailed for fraud as well as trespassing on military territory. Your nurses here will face jail time for impersonating doctors and using brute force without proper cause."

After a few exchanged glances between the three reporters, she was released from the grip and very quickly left alone in the operating room. The next day she'd be gone to her next destination, but it wouldn't stop the video from going viral internationally. People from all over gobbled up any story that had to deal with Overwatch, both eager for a scapegoat and nosy into the business of the disbanded heroes. Her struggle was publicized as a negative thing, of course, with many conspiracy theorists thinking that she (as well as the rest of Overwatch) was still involved in the evil schemes that became much more apparents as time went on.

Others were painting her as an angel, persevering through the difficulties she faced and still trying to come to the aid of the world. Either way, her face was international news. She couldn't have expected differently.

She decided to stay in the Middle East while the news of her long-sought-after appearance lost publicity. She found that it was easy to disguise herself and not receive suspicion, which was a relief and a curse at the same time. Was her entire life going to be like this? Year after year, running from all kinds of people and danger? Never able to do a damn thing about it?

Then one day, a call came that she never expected.

A reunion that was bittersweet and such a relief at the same time.

Angela Ziegler knew that her purpose in life was to watch over the people, keep them safe, heal their injuries, and give them the life they deserved. Her technology was a display of this, but even more so it was her display of dedication to the force of Overwatch and her companions that showed her purpose. Even though the group would never be what it once was, there was suddenly hope for her again. She didn't have to aimlessly wander, searching for a purpose.

Winston and Tracer couldn't be happier to see her. And even though it filled a gap that had been empty for a long time, she still felt that there was so much missing, try as she may to put it from her mind.  
On the day of their reunion, Winston addressed the both of them.

"We will be joined by others that we may or may not know. But keep in mind that everyone we have here will be important and necessary in their own ways. For now, it's the three of us, but by tomorrow there should be twice as many. And after that, we'll truly start rebuilding ourselves."

"You ac' like we're gon'a be workin' with some undesirable types, Winston," Tracer mused.

"We might be," he nodded. Mercy sighed, and then he did too. "I suggest you both really rest up. There may be some people who can't travel here on their own, so be prepared for possible heavy travel with little notice."

Not that she didn't value his advice, but Angela really wouldn't be able to sleep anytime soon. The thought of others joining Overwatch once more was too exciting (as well as being nerve-racking), so the only thing she could find herself doing was cleaning out her old office. It was a rather small room that branched off of a sick-bay like room. Littered with old papers and unpacked boxes. All of her technology and personal belongings were still preserved at the base, left behind in trade for her temporary nomadic lifestyle. Several operating tables stood in the middle of the room, each separated by a bright blue curtain for privacy. The walls and floor were still a clean (yet dusty) white color; combined with the fluorescent lights, she had to admit that it was a little bit blinding.

In her office and on her desk were old photos and mementos from the glory days of Overwatch. There were letters written from her companions and old sweaters still hung up on the rack by the door. She eyed one in particular, black in color and heavy for winter conditions. It had been a gift from Gabriel-

Everything in there was so old.

"Maybe I can't do this right now," she muttered to herself, choosing to instead leave the office for the night and make an escape to the connecting balcony of the medical wing. There she sat, looking up at the sky and wondering who exactly she'd be seeing the following day. Her mind continued to wander until she fell asleep.

Never one for sleeping in or ignoring the rising sun, she rose with a certain stiffness in her shoulders and lower back, no doubt from falling asleep on the hard stone of the balcony, but nonetheless walking back into the hospital wing to get to work on her office. She was guessing that the other two weren't awake yet, so she had time to clear out things and make room. Papers needed to be properly disposed of and everything needed to be dusted, vacuumed, perhaps even repainted-

"You're up early, love," Lena leaned against the open doorway and Angela jumped about a foot in the air.

"When I looked back at my office last night, I realized how much work needs to be done," she said with a smile. Lena hummed and nodded.

"Winston wants t' go out an' search for some people that said they'd be in the area today. Wants me t' come with. You gonna be alrigh' bein' here by yourself?" She tilted her head to rest against the doorway, atop her shoulder.

"I'll be alright, thank you. The sooner I finish this, the sooner I'll be ready for the others."

With that, Tracer left Mercy behind to tend to her old belongings. Struggling between knowing what to keep and what to throw away, she settled for filing the letters and mementos away in her uppermost drawer while keeping her framed photos on the walls and atop the desk itself. Major cleaning was done to every surface and corner, not that there were many of them, but with most things, Angela was absolutely a tidy, organized person. Cleaning the room, disposing of the old files and papers, and reorganizing her personal belongings ended up taking all of the morning. Yet, even as she took a while, she was still finished before Winston and Tracer returned. Knowing better than to be concerned, she put herself to work on the actual medical room. Any doctor in their right mind would never treat a patient when the room was so dingy.

Quiet footsteps sounded from the floor beneath her, and so encompassed in her task, she didn't even take notice.

They rose up the stairs to the upper medical wing, where Mercy cleaned the room with a certain ferocity. The source of the footsteps would have laughed, had they wanted to make themselves known, but it wasn't the right time. Melodramatic as it was to do so, it would be best to greet the doctor when she wasn't so preoccupied. And maybe when that moment came, the source of the footsteps would know what to say to her in the first place.

She hadn't even turned around. Her dedication to the task was becoming nervousness about the arrival of new heroes. Her mind wandered to the thief of Overwatch technology in the past years, quickly snapping back to her task as she reasoned with herself that even if that person was a threat, they'd be dealt with accordingly. She'd be safe with her companions. They'd fulfill their objective. Just as Winston said, Talon was resurfacing as a threat to humanity. It was why they came back together in the first place, and why he was out recruiting new people in the first place.

Speaking of, she heard a rather loud commotion going on in the floor below. People were drawing near and it took her a few seconds to place the voices. Two men, older and experienced, and old friends of hers.

"Torbjörn? Reinhardt?"

The two laughed and held open their arms for her to greet them in an embrace. Tracer and Winston soon joined the party and the five of them caught up on their projects and whereabouts since the disbandment.

And then it wasn't long before Torbjörn introduced one of his health schematics to Mercy, just as he used to do with her in his free time before. He had so many ideas for health-related machines, but simply didn't have the knowledge of Mercy's medicine to properly execute them. Sometimes it wasn't even for a practical use, but rather a project for them to see if they could complete together. Really, it was something she had taken for granted back in the day.

They didn't waste a moment before getting to work on his blueprint: a turret that could be used for medicinal properties instead of defensive ones. The both of them holding pieces of the knowledge needed to finish the machine, they took very little time away from what they were doing, only stopping for the occasional food break. They wouldn't even stop for Winston, who had brought up an addition to the Overwatch team.

"Nice to meet you," Angela called out over her shoulder, "We'll get acquainted in the morning, I believe we've just had a breakthrough!"

Although disgruntled, Winston thought it best to leave them to their work, leading the new recruit down the stairs and away from the medical wing.

The recruit came back several hours later, when the noise of machinery had ceased and the whole building fell quiet. He stepped into the well-lit room, spotting Angela asleep at her desk in the office. He was careful not to wake her as he observed the newly-cleaned room, also spotting the pictures of her companions on the desk. The one in the middle was of her and two other men on either side of her, all three of them smiling during a seemingly sunny day. He quietly picked up the frame, taking a closer look. Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes were the men in the picture, of course.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the black jacket. From under his blue and black mask, he grimaced.

A gloved hand swept back the blonde hair out of her eyes, and he gained a better look at her face. It had only been five years but he could tell that she was living a stressed live outside of Overwatch. As if that surfaced video of her wasn't enough to reveal that she was deeply distressed, her crows feet and laugh lines were just a bit more pronounced than they used to be. Not that he was still in top shape either, but the sight still surprised him.

She was still a beautiful woman, he thought. It was no wonder that so many people would call her an angel; her good nature and innocent looks were enough for her to deserve the title.

He wanted to say he was sorry, but he couldn't bring himself to wake her up. Even though he had thought about what to say all day, how to tell her he wasn't dead, and how he could apologize to make up for it, he couldn't bring himself to wake her up from a seemingly deep sleep. She looked quite peaceful.

Absentmindedly, he hoped she was dreaming of anything but him.

He had an idea of how painful it must have been to lose not just one, but two friends and an entire task force within such a short amount of time. He realized that she must have lost everything important to her; it was admirable she had chosen to give her expertise to the people of the world instead of other more personal endeavors, like himself.

Could he really do this?

Could he really push himself back into her life again without the overwhelming guilt of his leave? Surely she would understand, but then why should he ask her to? She was a strong person, but he hated the thought that he would hurt her again. She certainly didn't deserve it.

Jack made his way out of the room, dimming the lights just enough so as to not wake her from the sudden difference in lighting, and left the medical wing. It was a bad idea to return that night; he should have known she'd be sleeping. But still, there was a storm in his breast that was calmed after he saw her again- an old friend, a woman he had missed with every bone in his body, a relationship that couldn't be replaced or replicated by any other.

As he stepped out, Angela raised her head. The lights were dimmer and she heard footsteps walking in the opposite direction, but a curious look outside of her door revealed nothing but an empty sick bay. Without realizing that one of the pictures on her desk was in a different position than before, she laid her head back down on the wood, not having the energy to walk all the way back to her own room.

She thought about what the following day would bring. A small part of her hoped that there was some miracle in the world that would allow her to see her remaining old friends once more, even though the rational part of her brain told her not to dwell too much on unlikely possibilities.

This doesn't change anything, Angela. This doesn't change anything.


	2. Rooftops

The next morning, Mercy was abruptly woken up as a deep, thudding boom was heard from the floor below. Almost instantly, she pushed herself from the chair she was previously sleeping in to sprint to the source, ignoring the stiffness in her neck and back. A blonde ponytail bounced back and forth as bare feet padded down a tan stone staircase, leaving the medical wing and nearly flying to the main part of the building. She probably would have actually flown had she been wearing her Valkyrie suit. But without it, she was only human.

She arrived at the scene within the minute and halted in her tracks at the sight of three other people she had never seen before; they were most likely the recruits that Winston had called for, but Mercy still found herself not knowing what to say, or do. She wondered what conflict had allowed for an explosion, since seemingly nothing was wrong. Everyone was just standing there.

The first one was a wiry, almost bouncy man, standing on top of a suspicious-looking black spot where the explosion must have taken place. His eyes darted every which way to take in the sight of the HQ main room, and she could swear that she heard him breathing from all the way across the room. Except, no, that sound was coming from the companion beside him. A tall, rotund man wearing a hog mask to conceal his face. On his bare stomach was a tattoo of a pig, and in his hand was what looked like a hook attached to a chain. As he looked down at her, she instinctively looked away.

The last recruit was in the doorway of another side of the main room, away from the commotion. From the distance she was at, she couldn't notice any distinguishable details about him, but his entire essence screamed "soldier." The only exposed part of his body seemed to the the top of his head, as the rest of his face was masked- even his eyes, which were covered with a red visor. A heavy jacket and gloves didn't allow her to take in even an inch of his skin; all she could gather was that his hair was grayed and there was a peek of a scar atop his brow.

He seemed as surprised as she did towards the arrival of the two recruits (well, as surprised as a masked man could). He must have run to the scene like she did. "At least he seems receptive," he mused to herself.

"G'day!" the wiry man gave a two-finger salute to Mercy, who was still silent. Her reaction must have been funny to him, since he let out a rather disturbing giggle. The larger man at his side remained quiet (save for the heavy breathing that was beginning to make Angela uncomfortable). "We were called by some bloke named Winston, he here?"

"Y-yes," she blinked out of her shock to the best of her ability. "He should be in his lab. Let me go get him, please stay here."

She walked away from the scene, trying not to stare for too long at the new arrivals. The soldier hadn't spoken a word, the wiry man looked like he could start laughing at any moment, and the larger companion could probably crush her with one hand. She hadn't even thought to ask their names or what the explosion was, only realizing so when she was in front of Winston's lab. It was probably an irresponsible thing to do, but the recent change of pace was getting to her.

"Winston," she called out as the hero was overlooking his schematics, "there are some new arrivals. I think you should go downstairs."

"Ah yes," when he turned around, his eyes went to her feet. "Why are you not wearing shoes?"

Angela looked down. "Oh."

Another boom sounded from below and she remembered that she had rushed down from her office to investigate the first explosion, forgetting shoes in her panic. "I think you should just get down there and speak to them," she explained, moving away from the doorway so that he could go ahead of her.

After some investigation, Angela found out that two of the strangers had come from Australia— Junkers. They were people of the outback that made their living from the explosion debris of the Australian omnium, even as the land had been terribly irradiated. On several occasions she had tried to make her way there during her medical nomad life, but she found it nearly impossible, thanks to safety concerns. No wonder they both looked so volatile. It was also no wonder the source of the explosions was none other than the wiry man's grenades, which had fallen off of his vest and been activated. Winston decided to go straight to work on a better working utility belt for the man, almost appropriately named Junkrat.

His companion didn't speak much, and when he did, it was to introduce himself. Roadhog.

Angela prayed to herself that the two of them would stay on her side. Understandably, she was quite weary of explosions.

The final recruit, the one that Angela had blown off the day before during her time with Torbjörn, gave an introduction much like that of Roadhog. He didn't say much, and when he did, it was only his title. Soldier 76. Obviously not a name, but Angela didn't question it too much. However, as they stood there for a moment, she realized something.

Junkrat and Roadhog had left to go find their rooms when she stepped closer to 76, squinting a little bit. He seemed frozen in place as she slowly closed the distance. "You…" he was taller than she expected. From a distance, they hadn't seemed too far apart, but upon closer inspection, her eyes could only reach the bottom of his chin. "Aren't you…?"

76 gave a small sigh and hesitantly raised a hand to his mask, ready to take it off, feeling rather nervous that she had identified him so quickly. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say to her, but now that it was time to reveal his identity, he wasn't sure if he could do it.

"You're the one who was stealing our equipment in America."

The hand froze and then fell back to his side. Damn. She stepped back when his masked face nodded, and she gave a tired glare. If he had been planning something destructive, they were all screwed. Weapons had gone missing. Could she trust him at all? Then again, if he was planning something, he already had multiple chances to carry out an attempt to sabotage Overwatch. Still, she felt the need to address the issue.

"Why? Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"...No."

He didn't want to explain his plaot of revenge to her. He didn't want to make her worried again or give her a reason to doubt his return. And he sure as hell didn't want to bring up any past pain she still had for her lost friends. Even if he were still alive, part of him had died that day, and he knew part of her had died too. He just couldn't tell her that he was hunting down the man he tried to kill that day. He couldn't tell her that even after half of a decade, nothing had changed.

She stared into his visor, expression softening. His size and his voice vaguely reminded her of Jack.

He saw that look in her eyes, and he knew he had to come clean The longer he waited, the worse it would be for them. He raised his hand to his mask again, this time with less hesitation, but before he could take it off, the sound of the others coming around made him less willing. It wasn't something to be done in front of others; he resolved to tell her first. He'd come clean about his identity with the others when the time was right.

Angela turned. Tracer had joined them.

"Hiya!" she waved to the both of them, and Angela smiled. "I heard Winston say tha' Mei is on 'er way! She migh' not stick around, seeing as how she'll be workin' on 'er climate studies, but more an' more people are comin' 'round!"

"That's amazing. I wonder how long it'll take for the rest of them to respond?"

"Not sure, but I 'ope it'll be soon."

The two women started to walk off, speaking excitedly about their old companions and new people. 76 wasn't sure what to do with himself, and resolved to spend some time alone, when Tracer turned around to face him. She offered for him to come along, and after a moment of thinking, he decided that it couldn't hurt. So the three of them walked around the building, Tracer showing him around, not knowing that he had been there before.

Angela would glance at him out of the corner of her eye every few minutes, trying to identify anything that would reveal him as someone she had already met. It couldn't be a coincidence that him and Jack could be so similar. Even as 76 looked older, there were certain mannerisms that she couldn't just shrug off. And he wouldn't act like he didn't notice her looking at him, either; it really started eating him away. Tracer, however, continued on with her tour, not noticing the silent exchange between her company.

It was nearing evening when the two were alone again; the sun was nearing the horizon and there wasn't a cloud in the pink sky as they stood there on the roof of Overwatch HQ. Tracer had left them when her hunger got to be too much to handle, leaving in search of dinner and tasking Angela with showing him the places that she may have forgotten. So Angela took him to the roof, knowing that it was unlikely they'd run into anyone else there. Despite her best judgement, there was something she had to know.

"Why are you here?"

It was perhaps a brash question, but one that needed to be answered. Overwatch heroes had a specific set of skills and talents; although many militant individuals were brave and skilled, there were few that would be considered for the Overwatch task force.

"I was called," he said softly, looking down at her face with a soft, yet unseen, expression. Next to the early sunset, she looked more like an angel than before. She was almost glowing, and as her bright blue eyes looked up at him, he swallowed hard. The nervousness was coming back just like it had before. His frazzled brain tried to remember what it was he wanted to tell her, but at the moment, he just couldn't.

His low, rough voice was sounding more and more familiar. His height and his build were too similar to that person's, that old friend's. Her heart began to swell with the possibility of seeing him again and she could help but placing a hand on his mask. If it wasn't him, this might be the biggest mistake she could make, but if he were here, she had to know. If he had been alive all this time, she had to know.

Although he instinctively tried to move back, the bigger part of him knew that she had to do this.

Jack closed his eyes, planted his feet, and allowed her to pull off the mask.


	3. Unmasked

As a child, Angela Ziegler was rambunctious, creative, and selfless. She was a child who shared and cared about everybody around her, even crying if left alone too long. As small and dainty as she was, she was protective of the people and things that mattered to her. Little Angela Ziegler was a tiny force to be reckoned with, and there was truly nothing on earth that could stop her from trying to keep her loved ones from harm.

Her mother and father both died when she was nine. A predictable result of war.

It had been the reason that she took up her medical research with the vigor that she did. War became something unspeakable and unforgivable. For a long time, she hated the military with all of the energy she could spare for it, and even hated the men and women that decided to serve- decided to kill. It was hard for her to see the value in death. As a result of her loss, she became married to the concept of peace, never letting any politician or friend convince her that every war was necessary.

In her adulthood, it was even hard to accept the concept of Overwatch. She was an accomplished doctor, not a soldier, and even denied to be a part of the international team at first. However, they offered her something she had always wanted, and she couldn't say no.

Medical development would skyrocket. On a global scale, she could share her expertise and offer help to those who needed it. She could expand her horizons in ways that she had only hoped she could before. Even given the militant nature of Overwatch, she joined their ranks, choosing to stay completely out of combat.

Meeting Jack and Gabriel, two men that had been shipped straight from the American Military, was an experience. She learned how to better accept the things she couldn't change, and learned that it was valuable to keep the good and innocent people of the world safe from harm. They were two men that had believed in that value so staunchly, she couldn't help but come to admire their military sentiment. They had wanted to be heroes.

Angela Ziegler took off the mask over Jack's face, and once again she was just a little girl. A little girl who had lost her parents, the two biggest people in her world. She relived every failed surgery, Jack's "death," what she had done to Gabriel—

With shaky fingers, she gently touched the scars on his face- there was one going across the middle of his face, one across his lips, and one she could just barely see creeping from his chin. He was a battle-worn man, yet she recognized him almost instantly, and she couldn't breathe. Scars that she could have prevented were so deep, so long and so large, it was no doubt that he had gotten them after she had last seen him.

Jack stood there, still forgetting what he had been wanting to say to her for so long. For whatever reason, he hadn't anticipated that she would cry, but there she was with her large blue eyes and seemingly suffocating from his presence. The guilt was overbearing. Thousands of moments popped into his mind, moments when he could have called her, or visited, or sent her a letter, but he hadn't. He'd left himself in isolation. He'd left her in isolation.

"Angela," he started, his voice less muffled by his mask, "I'm sorry."

She wanted to throw a fit. She wanted to cry and stomp around and tell him about the funeral she had to sit through, the hearings she had about his actions, and about everything he could have prevented had he just let her try to help settle things between him and Gabriel. But she stood quiet, crying and seething all at the same time. In truth, she had already forgiven him, but the more vocal part of her couldn't do it just yet.

Instead, she looked away from him. He reached for her hand, which was still on his face, and tried to get her to look back at him. All she could think of was the collapsing building, the frantic search room by room and floor by floor, and how terrible it was to know he was dead but not have any real confirmation. Living in denial for years.

Seeing him made her remember Gabriel as well. He was the only one out of the two she had found, and with him suffering the serious injuries he was, she tried what she could to save him, administering an experimental medicine into his system, though with less than desirable results. His injuries were too substantial for her to heal him by any other means; her only choice was to administer what she called an RCR, or rapid cell replacement drug.

But as his cells were replaced, they decayed, destroying his body into nothing more than black mist.

It was all her fault that he had to face a death so cruel. But she had been desperate- she had been willing to do anything to save his life, even if it meant risk. Of course, she paid the price. His death was on her hands. She wouldn't pretend like she hadn't been haunted by him since his passing. Just like she had seen glimpses of blond hair moving past her in crowds, her eyes would play tricks on her at night, the same black mist that was Gabriel's body moving past her vision- only for her to blink and lose sight of it.

Angela wouldn't call it a living nightmare, but she was haunted by what had happened. Irrevocably.

God, she had been such a mess. She always wanted to be a strong person that could overcome the horrors she'd been through. Jack and Gabriel had helped her become such a person in the past days of Overwatch. They helped her find a strength and bravery she never had before. How was she supposed to keep it with them gone? How could a person be so strong?

"I couldn't find you," she whispered, scared of sobbing as she spoke. It nearly broke him. "I looked as the building went down and you were nowhere."

Jack gave a sigh. This was his chance to give a wordy explanation and tell her the story from the beginning. But when he looked at her, and once he did he couldn't look away, he knew it would only hurt her to hear about the aftermath. He figured she only needed to know the simple things about it. With the hand that wasn't holding hers, he cupped her cheek. She leaned into it. If things were any different, she might have laughed or smiled. Still just as charming as ever.

"I'm here. I'll be here for a while, I promise."

"You can't promise that," she argued, her eyes closed.

"I can, and I will."

The sun hit the horizon, changing the sky from pink to orange. As Angela's sobbing died down she leaned her head against his chest and prayed to God that she hadn't been dreaming, or that she had died.

But no, she was alive and well. More alive than she had felt in a long time, in fact. And then she remembered the stray blond she had seen from time to time. Though his hair was now grayed, she couldn't help but ask-

"Have you been following me?"

He returned the embrace as he answered. "I've been around."

"Were you ever planning on telling me?"

"...No."

She pushed back and stared at him until he told her why. He looked back until she figured out that it wasn't something she would want to know. Of course he would have gone back to her if he could have, but it was very clear that he felt like he couldn't. Angela couldn't shake the feeling that it was completely and utterly her fault.

"Is it because of what I did to Gabriel?"

The mere mention of the name set Jack's face into a grimace. "What? I killed Reyes, Angela."

"No," she shook her head, "you didn't. He was alive when I found him."

"He what-?"

"I killed him. It's my fault he's dead. He dissipated into the air, he slipped right through my fingers-"

"We both know the kind of man that Gabriel turned out to be. If anybody were to take blame for his death, it should be me."

"You don't understand, Jack."

She tried not to cry again, but it only made her breaths heavy and her voice crack. "I told him I'd fix him. He trusted me to save him."

Jack knew that saving people was Angela's whole life. She dedicated herself to others, and as admirable as he found it, oftentimes it was nothing more than a pain in the neck. He hated seeing her like this. She used to be so much more lighthearted, so much happier. Given, he didn't put her in the happiest situation, necessary as it was. But he wanted to do something, anything, to make her feel like she used to again. As someone who used to be her best friend, it was a task that only he could complete.

"You can't save everyone. But I'm sure he was happy to die with you by his side."

He tried not to let the bitterness slip into his tone, and luckily enough she didn't seem to notice that he was holding back in that regard. As the three of them had been close friends, there was also an added competitiveness between himself and Reyes when it came to Angela. Both of the men had loved her in their own ways, struggling to shine through to her as the brightest.

If she were asked to go back and remember her feelings back in those days, she wouldn't be sure that she could. There was too much darkness blotting out the light of her fond memories.

What she did know was that beyond the anger, confusion, sadness and relief, there was something unspeakable within her at the sight of Jack. It wasn't bad, yet she didn't know if it was good; it was an ache that she had seldom experienced before. But her brain was exhausted at the commotion that had been her life in the past few days. Too much was happening, and although she hadn't done much in the day, she felt like she could fall asleep at any minute.

Jack accompanied her back to her quarters, where she hadn't actually slept in for over five years. The past couple of nights she passed out in her office, at the expense of her neck (the resulting stiffness was something that she hadn't given a second thought about).

It was a good thing that Winston and Tracer helped to clean out the bedrooms, because almost as soon as she entered the room, she collapsed on the bed- but not before standing on the tips of her toes to kiss Jack on the cheek.

"I'm glad you came back."

"Goodnight, Angela."

"Goodnight."

In the few moments before she actually fell asleep, her half-closed eyes went to the door to the small balcony adjacent to her room. By then, it was nighttime, and the moonlight was hitting the railing in such a way that she swore she could make out a faint outline of black mist, before her vision turned black and she lost consciousness.


	4. Within Grasp

He was the wind.

He was a manifesting hurricane; he was a moving force led by anger, solitude and revenge.

From the moment he was thrown into his second life, his second state of existence, there wasn't a moment that went by when he didn't seethe with rage and hatred. He wanted to kill. He wanted destruction. In his second existence, he no longer feared the death of others, nor did he hesitate in facilitating the killing. Truly, he was death incarnate. How ironic, considering the woman who created such a monster had been an advocate for peace.

He wanted to make her regret every trying to save him. He wanted to see Overwatch permanently laid to rest, and he was the one who wanted to do it. It was all their fault that he ended up the way he did.  
Jack's funeral left a sour taste in his mouth for years. There were kind words, tears, and erected statues for the memory of the dead leader. Everyone mourned Jack Morrison, and yet didn't seem to acknowledge Gabriel in the least. Just like every time before, he'd been thrown away in favor of his old friend; bitterness grew and festered within his cold heart. Even years later, Reyes couldn't let it go.  
At first, he resolved to kill Angela while she was alone, after Overwatch disbanded.

She was always in a city, he noticed, and never too far away from a hospital. She didn't keep close company, nor did she interact too much with her (temporary) coworkers. There were times he swore that she could see him, but she always looked away, and that only made him more angry. It was as if she didn't want to think he could still be alive.

And then he remembered their last moments together. Him, scared and desperate to live. Her, shaking and desperate to save him.

He'd see her cry from time to time, and he deeply hoped that it was him she was crying over.

Months passed. There were countless opportunities to kill her- in her sleep, at night, walking alone, it didn't matter- there was always something stopping him from doing the thing he thought he wanted to do all along. Nonetheless, he continued to follow her, growing more and more used to having her as his unaware company, until Talon found him.

They offered him a position in their ranks, knowing full well who he was and what he had been turned into. They created a device for him to willingly control his form, which he hadn't been able to do before (having to adjust to random transitions between apparition and solidity was the most frustrating part of his second existence), and gave him two options:

He could wander the world as a ghost, or become a man yet again.

Leaving Angela was the only thing he had to do, and as attached as he had gotten to following her, he would never be able to bridge the gap between them. She was always in a world he was not a part of. Talon was within his reach. So he walked away with a high head, finally feeling the validation he had wanted all along. It was a place where his experience and skill was appreciated, as the former leader of Blackwatch.

Time went on with them. It had only been half a year before they started to feed him the lies that gave rise to his actions so many years later; the anti-Overwatch propaganda that was so spread within the community of Talon was almost overwhelming to him at first. Gabriel already had the hatred within his heart for what Overwatch had turned him into, but the negativity spread left and right molded him in all the wrong ways. His resolve before Talon had been to kill Angela; he couldn't bring himself to do it. Now, his resolve was to eliminate everyone else. The person he became in Talon would surely be more capable.

It had been roughly four years since he joined Talon, and he thought it would be best to visit the monkey and gain the information he'd need to complete his goal. It was because of this trip that Overwatch was recalled, and even though he had to retreat from Gibraltar without what he came for, he unintentionally made it easier for himself. Soon enough, he'd be able to track down every member.  
Not long after their recall, he paid a trip to their HQ, taking notice of how the group grew, and with who. There were no doubt new faces, but he paid extra attention to the familiar ones- one of which had been Mercy herself. After so long being away from her, he thought he had no more pity for her regret towards what she'd done, but all it took was one look at her sleeping face and he was sent back to where he started.

She had subtle signs of aging across her face. He mostly noticed the newly forming wrinkles around her eyes and the discoloration that came from a lack of sleep, but he also saw the lack of peace in her sleeping expression.

A nightmare?

Whatever the case, he couldn't stick around. He had to be careful so as to not get caught doing what he was doing- everything would be done in due time. It had to be thought out first.  
Of course, he was questioned upon his return to Talon. He told them where they were, who was there, and the intel he had gathered from his minimal search. And then the question came;

"Did you locate Angela Ziegler?"

Mercy had been wanted by Talon for various reasons, most of which being her inventions and medical expertise. Of all of the members of Overwatch, she was the one that had to be kept alive so that she could be used.

"Yes."

"When can she be moved?"

"When I've disposed of the others."

Gabriel's commander nodded and thanked him for the information, turning away to leave Gabriel by himself. Deep down, he knew that he wouldn't be able to do what they wanted him to, even if he was in denial about it. The subconscious part of himself knew that there was far too much love he still had for her; the real question would be what he would resolve to do about it.

He was at a point in his Talon career where there was no turning back, even if he wanted to. There was no chance of defecting or going M.I.A. He was stuck where he was and he had to be okay with it.

Not even the great team of Overwatch could save him now; not that he wanted them to, but he couldn't deny that the thought crossed his mind.

Meanwhile, Overwatch was conducting their own recon mission in search of Talon intel and information about the masked person that Winston had encountered. He described the situation to the gathered members of the task force, which now included a woman named Symmetra that came from the Vishkar Corporation, and the recently-arrived Mei, who hadn't aged a day since Angela last saw her.

"This person is highly dangerous. From what I've been able to gather so far, he's a lethal mercenary they call Reaper. He's cloaked, masked, and his victims have been found in conditions that suggest he isn't entirely human. On this mission, don't go off on your own, and if you see him, do not engage him, especially by yourself. Now get to the dropship, we'll be leaving in half an hour."

Lena, Jack, Angela, Reinhardt and Torbjörn all moved together as a group. They day after Jack came clean to Angela about his identity, he had decided to tell the older members of Overwatch as well. It gave him a deep relief that he could come clean to them.

"Does this mean you're gonna be strike commander again?" Lena asked, tilting her head.

"No," he responded, almost too quickly. "Not this time."

"Well, no matter! We've regained an old friend, and that's enough to celebrate!" Reinhardt laughed and plopped his hand down onto Jack's shoulder. Everyone laughed along; even Jack, for a moment.  
The mission itself had started off without a problem. They arrived at the point and gathered into two groups of five.

Junkrat, Roadhog, Symmetra, Mei and Reinhardt covered the ground the the east. They were to secure the base floors and search for a database while also clearing out any people coming from the floors underground. Tracer, Winston, Torbjörn, Mercy and S76 scoped out the west ground of the area. It included a watchtower, an open field, the surrounding trees, and several single-story buildings that they predicted to be housing units for Talon forces. After combing their area, they were to meet up with the east group to explore the upper parts of the large building in front of them, as they thought their best luck would be found above the ground floors.

They left after sunset, and arrived when the sky was the deepest blue of the day. The surrounding area wasn't populated, so the stars above them were much brighter than they were in the city, and the territory was less visible than they thought it would be. It was a good thing for sneaking, but not a good thing for discovery.

It also proved to be tough for the west group to stick together, thanks to the darkness. On three separate occasions, they found themselves split up, and struggled to safely make the noise that was needed to bring them back together. They figured that Talon operatives had to be awake somewhere in the camp, and if the group was found out, it wouldn't be long before they'd have to retreat and leave empty handed.

The first separation lasted only a few seconds. Tracer found herself searching through the trees for guards in the opposite direction that the others had been going in. She realized this mistake herself, and was able to find the group again within moments. They hadn't even noticed they'd lost her.

The second separation was slightly more serious. As they began to climb the watchtower to incapacitate the guards positioned there, they realized that Torbjörn was nowhere near them, but they had gone too far to go back, so they took out the two guards and went back down to find him. In the dark, he revealed to have lost them as they moved from the trees along the perimeter to the watchtower, more willing to wait for them to find him than to call out and risk exposing his position to any other posted patrollers.

The third and final separation happened to Mercy as they staked out the few small houses in the clearing. Due to their size, two would go in at a time while the other three waited outside to keep watch in all directions. Just like they thought, they were dorms used to house Talon members- weapons and Talon tech was littered across the tables and floor, leaving little room to step where they wouldn't make noise. Tracer and S76 scoped out the first house; rather obviously, they were in and out in no time, finding nothing substantial except for the pictures and documents to observe the identities of the people in the houses.

The second house was covered by Mercy and Torbjörn.

They split up and looked through different parts of the small house. It was rather tidy and simple, with furniture that looked like it had barely been used. There was almost no trash, no dirty dishes, no stray clothing, and no personal items that would hint at who lived in the home. Mercy absentmindedly thought of the possibility that nobody actually lived there, and that was when a covered hand went over her mouth. She was suddenly dragged backwards before she could struggle against the grip.

Her captor opened a door through the back of the house towards the surrounding forest- the other three hadn't been facing the trees when she was taken. Whoever this was had been anticipating them, she realized. His timing was perfect.

As he continued to drag her, she attempted to bite his hand, but found that it was made up of metal and rough leather; she hurt her own teeth with the force. With the Valkyrie suit's wings pinned down, there was no flying away, and her pistol seemed so far out of reach that she cursed herself for not carrying it openly before.

Over 100 meters back into the trees, he released his hand but kept his grip on her body; she wouldn't be getting away from him, and if she knew what was for her own good, she wouldn't start screaming either. Instead, she was pinned against a fat oak tree, bark poking into the back of her head and tangling her hair. Now facing him, she noticed the mask on his face and the black cloak covering his whole body. Under the dim moonlight, she could make out the general shape of a skull on his mask, but nothing more.

Instantly, Angela knew that this person was Reaper, and he was very clearly one step ahead of the Overwatch team.

With the mask mere inches from her face, she struggled to keep her eyes to where she thought his were, fighting to stay brave and stay strong (in the more mental sense than a physical one). It felt like ages went by before he spoke, and with his body so close to hers, she thought she'd drown at any moment. They had to know by then that she had gone missing.

"If you know what's best for you, doc, you'll leave Overwatch- and stay away."

It was against his better judgement to be doing this, but as he realized before, he knew he wouldn't be able to drag her into Talon's grasp.

And that was the moment when he realized that it was the first time he'd touched her since the death of his first existence. Following her around for nearly a year hadn't gotten him any closer to her; it was with bitterness that he realized they were only able to meet after so much evil had grown within him.

"...I won't."

Angela really thought she was being brave, completely clueless to her captor's motives and what was truly going on. She didn't understand, and it was frustrating him beyond belief. He struggled to remain composed and threatening.

"You'd rather watch your friends die in front of your eyes?"

It made her angry for him to suggest such an idea. With a glare, she stopped struggling as she responded.

"Heroes never die."

That was enough of a taunt to make him push her to the ground, very quickly straddling her small body and revealing a large shotgun from inside of his robe, which he placed to her head. He spoke as he leaned forward, his face once again inches from her own. She was too scared to put two and two together, until what he said struck a cord down her spine.

"Maybe the heroes you saved would've rather died, Ziegler. Maybe you do nothing but curse everyone you touch."

Her eyes widened. Although it may have been a bad idea, she raised her free hand to the mask over his face, her expression becoming horrified as he let her see the monster she'd let loose. The shotguns, the voice, and the familiarity of his face all made sense now. She had almost completely forgotten that she was in an extremely dangerous position when she took in his eyes, which had gone from brown to red, and the numerous scars he had gained on his face since his second existence. His skin had gone from a deep tan to a sickly pale gray.

"Gabriel," she choked, knowing full well that she was going to cry. As she tried to stop herself, she began to hyperventilate. He pulled the gun away from her head, and just as soon as he was going to stand up, she reached for him.

Reyes was pulled down into an embrace and found himself speechless. Whatever validation he'd been seeking from Talon or from Blackwatch was forgotten for that single moment. He didn't know what to do with himself, and instantly regretted all he'd done for Talon. Angela was innocent, and she didn't deserve to be part of such an organization.

But just like he knew before, he had come too far to be able to stop.

"Leave Overwatch, Angela," he commanded. "You don't want to be around when they come."

She pushed him back to look at his face again, significantly less horrified than the initial moment. "When who comes?"

"Talon."

"Is that what you were…" she sighed, realizing that he must have been working within the organization.

"I don't have a choice," he mumbled.

"Come back with us," she put a hand on his face to cup his cheek. "Gabriel, we'll help you-"

He slipped through her fingers and the familiar black mist floated away from her before she could get up. "Gabriel!" she whispered loudly, but after receiving no reply, Angela stood and looked in the direction he had gone off in. The absence of weight on her body almost made her feel woozy, like she suddenly didn't have the energy to move.

"Angela?" she heard from nearby. It was only a whisper, but she instantly knew that it was her team looking for her. She stumbled off towards them, definitely feeling like she could fall down at any moment.

"She's there!" S76 came to her side almost immediately, catching her just as she was about to fall. Not having to support her own body weight was much more comfortable; after a quick assessment of her condition, he dropped a biotic field.

"You don't look so good, what happened to you?" The seconds that went by in the biotic field helped her regain her strength, and cleared her head. She struggled with the decision to tell them about Gabriel; on one hand, they could help him, but on the other, he was working for Talon. And if Jack were to discover that Gabriel were still alive, she could only guess what would happen after.

Still, she had loyalty to her team and to Overwatch.

"...I discovered what Talon is planning."


	5. Fourth Man

Over the next few days, Mercy couldn't get the situation off of her mind. She realized that she hadn't actually been so crazy in her years by herself. She really had seen both Jack and Gabriel when she had thought of them as nothing more than phantoms. There had been so many opportunities for her to seek the both of them out if only she hadn't given up so easily on their lives.

She hadn't told the team about Gabriel, nor did she plan to. Instead, she offered a weak story about overhearing the plans from patrolling guards in the woods, and although she knew full well that her story was weak, her companions had no reason to think she was a liar. But the weight of her secret wouldn't be something that she could carry forever. Unless she knew that she could do something for him, she only continued to feel helpless as the hours passed on. She couldn't abandon him like she had before, and she couldn't let her friends be in danger. She had to do something.

While he was a threat to Overwatch, Angela struggled with the concept of him under Talon's fist. If she told Winston, they could organize a plan together. Working with a team was always better than working alone. Working alone was something that would surely get her killed. But then she thought about how the others would react, and the quiet voice inside of her heart became hesitant.

As his friend, she didn't want him to be imprisoned or killed like she knew was the plan for the rest of Talon. What she really wanted was something she knew was probably unattainable, and even if it was, it was so dependant on the others' opinions that she had serious doubt things would ever go the way she envisioned.

But after continued to plan and plot, Angela had found some hope in the fallen rubble of her past. There was still an inkling of a chance for them, and that was enough to make her strong. She'd convince them to save Gabriel if it took her hours of arguments and fighting.

A week after meeting with Gabriel, Mercy faced her audience.

Newly joined amongst their ranks was Jesse McCree, a former outlaw from the United States and previous "student" of Gabriel Reyes during his time in Overwatch. He was bound to be one of the members with the most strong opinion about her idea, next to Jack. Still, she would need the support of her whole team, not just a few people.

The other ten heroes were seated at a long table in the upper west wing of Overwatch HQ, just across from the medical wing. In the past, it had been a place for plotting and mission detail; Mercy fully planned to bring back the old tradition.

Seated at the head of the table, she stood as the others went quiet, her mouth sitting in a straight line beneath hard blue eyes that analyzed her audience, judging what would be the right way to introduce her subject.

"As most of you know, Overwatch has been an organization for quite some time," she began, receiving nods from McCree and S76. "We've seen past members come and go. We've seen death many times, and escaped from it as well.

"An old ally of ours, who was previously thought to be dead, is alive."

Reinhardt stood, believing her to be talking about Jack, ready to stop her from revealing his identity to the newer members that had joined them. "Mercy-"

She held up a hand as a signal for him to let her speak. Next to him her size was dwarfed, but he sat down nonetheless- out of respect.

"During the collapse of our Swiss HQ five years ago, I found Gabriel Reyes near death. He was a friend that I was desperate to save. I believed that I could do something about his condition. When I tried, his body turned to mist, and I never saw him again. I treated it as a death."

Almost everyone had known what happened, so her explanation was making them nervous. They all looked back and forth between one another, wondering if anybody knew what Mercy was trying to get to.

"Last week, I was confronted by the enemy that Winston warned us about. Reaper. He had stolen me from the house we were investigating and dragged me into the woods, where he warned me to leave Overwatch. When I said I wouldn't, he suggested that I would be sticking around to see you all die."

Winston leaned forward. McCree crossed his arms. Soldier 76 didn't move a muscle.

Tracer, however, spoke up.

"You're no' suggestin' wha' I think you are, righ'?"

Mercy took a deep breath. "Gabriel Reyes is alive. He's been working for Talon. I've already told you all that their goal is to see our demise, but it seems like he's been leading them through it. He knows where we are and he knew about our plan to search through their camp, like he's one step ahead of us."

Winston was reminded of when he first encountered Reaper

"Any particular reason you decided to wait to tell us this?" McCree demanded, looking at her from under the brim of his hat. He had worked under Reyes in Blackwatch for a while; she should have known he'd want to know why she didn't reveal the true identity of Reaper when she should have. She could even feel Jack's anger from across the room despite him not uttering a word.

"I needed to think of a way to do something about this without setting you all on him like dogs. There had to be a reason why he would warn me about his plans. And then I remembered what he told me: Talon isn't giving him a choice. They're doing to him what they did to Amélie Lacroix!"

"Maybe he's been fooling you," Jack suddenly chimed in. With a deep, serious tone, he made it very clear that he hated the idea of "saving" the man who had once been his friend; maybe she was unwise for pursuing her idea. "Since we're speaking of the man who had no problem bringing down a headquarters building and killing another Overwatch member for his own selfish purposes.'

"As I recall, he wasn't alone in that fight," she retorted, and he stood to properly meet her gaze.

"You can't be seriously thinking about rescuing a traitor! He made it clear what he wants to do. We have to properly protect ourselves against the war he's chosen to wage on us!"

"He made it clear that he's being watched, monitored and used. Talon is our enemy, not him."

"No, Mercy. Whatever wrong you're trying to right doesn't excuse his actions."

She placed both of her palms on the table and leaned forward. "We can't leave him behind."

Symmetra, Junkrat and Roadhog had all remained silent, having not known Gabriel from before. However, they did notice the controversy of the situation as a whole, and Symmetra chose to take as objective as a stance as she could before other Overwatch members could speak. She had done quite a lot of research before joining the organization and felt confident in her own insight.

"What if Mercy lured him out again to gain more information? We could monitor him from a distance, record any new information, and keep Mercy safe while she facilitated it."

"We'd be risking a lot," Torbjörn spoke. "Especially since our group is so small."

"It's not worth the trouble," Jack added.

"Wait-" Winston looked up at his companions as if he had realized something important. "Using an ex-Overwatch operative to carry out an anti-Overwatch crusade… it's genius."

Reinhardt nodded. "Talon has been trying to destroy us since the beginning. By whatever means possible. If Reyes really was brainwashed into carrying out this mission, who are we to stand by, especially when we are at risk because of it?"

Angela's heart was fluttering and her face flushed with a bright pink color. She was excited, no doubt, at the thought of being able to turn their luck. Eliminating Talon was something that they had never completely fulfilled in their career before. If they could do so in addition to gaining an old member back, there wouldn't be a single thing that would be greater. Nonetheless, the air was thick with tension. McCree and S76 were both sitting back with their arms crossed as the others spoke around them.

Jack wasn't nearly as excited as Angela. He very clearly wanted nothing to do with saving Gabriel Reyes and absolutely hated how little his insight seemed to matter in the meeting. He had been a leader for too long without even realizing it. Of course, his end goal was to eliminate those that had stood in the way of Overwatch so many years ago, and Talon seemed imperative to that goal-

But Gabriel Reyes wasn't a factor that he had been thinking of before.

Part of him took pity on Angela. He still remembered recruiting her so many years ago. She'd been one of the brightest young women he'd ever met, and knew instantly that she'd be a perfect addition to the team- but just like everyone else, she had faults that weren't so easy to deal with as time went on.

She was incredibly impressionable. It was a byproduct of being young, surrounded by heroic figures, and desperate to become a valuable asset to those around her. He knew that she had clung to people like him and Reyes early on, and bonds like the ones they formed weren't so easily destroyed, but to take it this far and let it create risk among the people who mattered more was unacceptable.

While he could understand her feelings, that didn't mean he wasn't angry.

"McCree?" she asked, wanting to hear him give his insight. After all, he'd been the one to have worked under Gabriel for so long. "Do you have anything to add?"

"If you wanna bring that crazy son of a bitch back into this group, there better not be any mistake with who's at fault when we're picked off one by one. The bastard's dangerous, and if you're wrong about him, we're all gonna pay for it."

Everyone fell quiet until McCree spoke again.

"We'll have to organize a watch squad to follow you while you're gathering the intel. Not all of us can go. It's too hard to keep track of everybody while staying quiet. And it won't be the easiest thing to do either; we'll have to spread ourselves around the perimeter. It'll minimize suspicion."

He stood from his seat and walked to the front of the room next to Angela. When their eyes met, he offered her a hint of a smile. She trusted in his judgement and his direction, given he had been taught under Gabriel himself to do this type of work in the first place.

"Four people are going to join us on this mission. They're going to be light, fast, and agile. There's a good chance we'll be watching from a far distance in a building or up in the trees somewhere. That means we're gonna have to move out quickly if something's gone wrong. Mercy here's gonna have a signal to give us if things go south. We'll mobilize and get her out of there quickly- if we have no choice but to engage, we split up into two groups of three. One group leaves with Mercy, the other group stays with me. Anybody who's interested can feel free to stick around and go over the details of this plan. Everyone else can go."

Jesse's quick instruction was brash and very to-the-point, which left a few of the members having to think about what was happening before they left. Reinhardt, Torbjörn, Winston and Mei all left the room rather quickly, knowing that they wouldn't be of much help. As they thought more about it, Junkrat and Roadhog also left the room, leaving just Tracer, Symmetra, and S76 to take part. Then again, even Jack looked like he'd leave at any moment.

"Thank you for staying," she said, slightly discouraged but trying to keep her chin up.

Noises from the rooms below caught her attention; it was a conversation coming closer to the meeting room, and Mercy wondered if any of them had changed their minds about the mission. In response to the following footsteps up the stairs, everyone turned their head to the doorway, where Winston was returning with two others in tow.

Directly behind him was a floating omnic with numerous spheres orbiting around his neck. He was dressed in traditional monk clothing and kept himself up in a stance of meditation. She momentarily wondered if he had come from the monastery in Nepal.

Even further behind him was a slim, silver man with armor adorning his whole body. On his back was the peeking hilt of a Japanese katana, and on his waist was a shorter wakizashi. At the sight of the familiar helm, Angela broke out into a full grin, even going so far as to walk up to him and pull him into a rough hug, which he gladly reciprocated.

"I'm glad to see you again, Genji."

"And I you, Dr. Ziegler."

She immediately noticed how much more calm he was compared to the way he acted when he'd left Overwatch. Like he had finally found peace.

"Lucky us," McCree crooned. "Maybe we've found our fourth man."

* * *

Genji's bae, he really is.

I've been thinking about it more, and I'd love to hear all of your thoughts about MercyKill vs Mercy76. How should I end this fic? Leave your thoughts in the comments. Have I been doing well so far? Any suggestions? Feedback is appreciated!

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	6. Almost Is Never Enough

Jack Morrison trekked through the skinny streets of Zürich, amazed by the tall buildings around him and the unique architecture of the Swiss city. He never thought he'd come to visit such a place, but as a member of Overwatch, he was an international hero; thanks to them, he went anywhere and everywhere.

This time, however, his visit was a recruitment.

Overwatch became interested in the young woman after hearing news of her accomplishments from across the globe: she was the youngest head surgeon to date, and had even began nanobiotic advancement previously unheard of. She was a pioneer of medical evolution, and she was highly sought after by Morrison, who had been talking about her accomplishments for a full year before he resolved to bring her onto the team. Everybody agreed that she'd be an indispensable asset, and Jack was happy to fly to the city to gather her himself.

Her hospital was one of the tallest buildings in the city. Its glass windows were heavily tinted, and the front doors were nearly twice as tall as himself. Walking inside, he immediately felt very out of place- even strangely dirty. There didn't seem to be a speck of grime anywhere. The floors, walls, and even the lights above him seemed to be shining.

At the front desk sat a young man wearing thick-framed glasses, talking on the phone with what Jack assumed to be a patient. The conversation was exclusively in German, so he hadn't picked up a word, instead choosing to stand and wait until he was finished.

"Darf ich dir helfen?" the receptionist asked several minutes later.

"Uh…" Jack really should have known he'd have to speak to people who didn't know English. "Can I see Doctor Ziegler?"

"Doctor Ziegler is in surgery," the young man responded in an incredibly thick accent. "Come back tonight."

"I'd rather wait here," he suggested, and the receptionist nodded.

"Water?"

"Please."

Jack took a seat, not knowing that he'd be waiting most of the night for Angela.

He spent the first few hours of his time trying to read through the magazines in the waiting room, none of which being in English, until he resolved to stop before he gave himself too aggressive of a headache. In the next few hours, he stretched his legs out and paced throughout the first floor of the hospital. The receptionist's shift ended around sunset, where he was replaced with an older woman named Helena. She spoke better English, but unfortunately, that did nothing to speed up Angela's surgery. It did, however, give him someone to talk to.

That is, until another staff member came in and told her to focus on working. So Jack took a seat by the magazines once again.

It was 10:00 pm in Zürich when Angela came down to the first floor. Her hair was messy, the bags under her eyes were dark, and she looked like she could drop at any moment. However. she looked incredibly young- too young to be performing surgery.

Morrison stood when she came out; she only glanced at him before she spoke with the receptionist. The two spoke in hushed German until she turned around to face Jack several moments later.

"Angela Ziegler?" he asked, and she nodded. "My name is Jack Morrison. I'm here on behalf of Overwatch."

Something in her eyes changed, and at first he didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

"We want to offer you a place in our ranks."

Her eyes narrowed. "I am not one to be part of a war," she said, and his heart nearly dropped out of his chest.

"We're not asking you to be. We'd like you to lead our medical division."

She took a few moments to think. With an accent just as heavy as the first receptionist, she eventually said, "I cannot decide right now. I am sorry, I've lost a patient today."

Her developments with technology and medicine had reached a quality previously unseen before in the world. However, it was still not perfected, and some tragedies simply couldn't be avoided. In an attempt to comfort her, he placed a light hand on her shoulder until she looked up at him.

"Let us help you make the world safer."

Overwatch recruitment techniques weren't always innocent or worthy of praise. Oftentimes, people were guilted or threatened into joining the organization. Criminals may have been given a choice between serving life prison or dedicating themselves to Overwatch, and sometimes, people like Angela were given an incentive. Make the world safer? Maybe they could aid her developments. Maybe she could expand her horizons into areas of the world she had only dreamed of before.

"I need time to think about this," she said still. Having just come out of a failed 10-hour surgery, she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was go home.

It was fair enough, he figured, but as it turns out, he'd spend quite a while in Zürich. Angela couldn't just leave her home without thinking of the bigger picture; there were several people lined up to have their surgeries done, several funerals to go to, and people to interview that would be taking her position. Jack had obviously underestimated her influence in the city- he seriously wondered how such a young woman had already gained the knowledge and ability to do what she could do.

He learned a great deal about her, following her around as she did all of the things she had lined up left to do. Since she was a candidate for a high position in Overwatch, it was not only important for her to be safe until she could be moved, but also important that she didn't plan an escape in her time away from Jack. Of course, he neglected to tell her this, preferring the odd looks at his accompaniment over the true explanation.

As he communicated with Overwatch during his stay, they suggested coming back another time, but Morrison, above all else, was persistent.

Of course, it got awkward at times.

Many of the people in Zürich spoke German, with few speaking English, and others even speaking languages like Italian. It was a place of diversity; Jack didn't understand most of what was going on except for things like body language and emotions. Even though he eventually picked up a few phrases, most of his understanding came from watching the atmosphere of a place change the moment Angela walked anywhere. From it, he learned just how beloved she was to her people. When she walked in the streets after work, many adults and even more children would wave and say hello to her with smiles and happiness. She would accompany older folks to their destinations without much care if it took her in the opposite way she was trying to go. Entire families would send her letters in the mail.

She was a real-life hero, he realized, to the people of Zürich.

One month after he arrived, she gathered that he wasn't going to leave until she accepted his exclusive invitation. The man had followed her everywhere without a complaint. He'd taught himself how to say things like "please, thank you, yes" in order to make his stay easier. Her coworkers had gotten into the habit of calling him "dein Freund," which got tiring after a while.

"Er ist nicht mein Freund," she would respond, to which Jack would pretend not to understand. But after a couple of weeks, she accepted that the teasing wasn't going to stop until he left. They giggled like schoolgirls when talking about the buff American man that stuck to her like glue, especially when several of Angela's coworkers attempted to talk to him.

"Why are you here?" they would flirt in broken English, twirling their hair around a finger or blinking at him with large eyes. During his career as Commander, he was fairly easy on the eyes, after all.

"For Doctor Ziegler," was all he would say.

Unfortunately for Angela, it seemed like he wasn't going to leave. Not without her, at least, and there were only so many things to plan before she ran out of responsibilities. She already had two people lined up to share the position of head surgeon. There were no funerals to attend, no more surgeries to perform. She was a free woman, save for the shackle of a man hanging around her. She knew that she couldn't procrastinate for much longer, if for any extra time at all.

"Fine," she said after four long weeks. "I will join Overwatch- as long as we are the advocates of peace."

Aligning herself with an international organization was something she never thought she would do in her life. They all seemed corrupted or otherwise war-like; Overwatch was no exception to this rule, but Morrison was too charming. He was always calm, always patient, and always kind. If he was truly the face of his organization, and she had definitely heard many great things about him, she had nothing to fear.

She also had to admit that it was quite flattering for him to have waited so long for her without a complaint.

Jack had always looked after her, especially in those early days when she was first recruited. Someone like her who was barely grown needed a role model to look up to- and there was never a shortage of those people in Overwatch- but she also needed a protector. Out on the lines of battle, she was their support; combined with her small build, lack of military training and inexperience in those situations, she was incredibly vulnerable.

Jack still saw her that way, even though now it had been nearly two decades since those early days. Some habits died hard.

That was the only reason he had agreed to take part in the mission to gather intel from Gabriel. He wasn't happy about it either, brooding in silence and pretending not to be jealous of Genji's unexpected arrival while the others planned for the upcoming mission. If he could be truthful with himself, it was only making his mood worse. The fact that Mercy kept shooting him glances from across the table was also rather unpleasant.

He tried to listen, though. On top of his emotions, he had become rather serious, and among all the things he took seriously, there were three that never changed.

First was Overwatch, where he was well-recepted, valuable, and ever-growing- as a person and as a soldier.

Second was his responsibility. Both on and off missions, he had a personal code to uphold. It was why he chose to save the girl from Dorado instead of going off to chase the gang attacking him, and it was why he stuck by Angela during the early days of Overwatch.

The final third thing, or rather person, was Angela herself. He took her health seriously, he took his relationship with her seriously, and most of all, he treated her thoughts and ideas seriously. For him, that was how he showed his love-

And after so many years, he had never really stopped loving her.

But he wouldn't admit that. Not now, and likely not ever. It wasn't what she needed, nor was it likely what she wanted. Close to 20 years, five of which were spent isolated from her, would reveal nothing, and he was relatively happy in that way. Until now, that is.

She was eager to save Gabriel, which bothered him deeply. Clearly all three of them had been close, but he had to question just how close she had gotten to Gabriel. If they had been involved in anything other than friendship, wouldn't he have known? Wouldn't everyone have known? She didn't seem like the type to keep those kinds of secrets, yet here she was, losing her mind about him. She had her role models and she had her friends- Jack and Gabriel happened to be both- but what about in terms of things deeper than friendship?

Imagining them together was sickening to him. If there was any previous doubt that he hated the man who had once been his friend, it was gone.

Angela gave him a tentative look, brow furrowed and the corners of her mouth downturned into a small frown. She knew that he was upset, but he hadn't said a single thing for the past half hour, and it was really beginning to worry her. She resolved to speak to him after the meeting; though she feared that he'd turn her away or even reject her company, she simply had to try.

Just as previously thought, he'd practically flown away the moment the meeting was over. Without a minute to spare, she chased after him, knowing that the minute he locked himself away in his room, there'd be no getting him out. The last thing she wanted was to go to bed dwelling on the topic.

So she followed him up to his floor, gaining on him until she could reach out and stop his door from closing. He had to have known she was going after him, otherwise he would have been surprised when his door wouldn't shut. Instead, he simply sighed, not looking at her. She waited there patiently.

"Please let me in, Jack," she whispered.

"...Goddamnit," he thought, letting go of the door. She walked in and closed it behind her.

His room was on the corner of the building. Floor-to-ceiling windows covered two of the walls with drapes light gray in color, all left open. They let in the bright moonlight so much that Jack didn't feel the need to turn on his light; or rather, that was Angela's presumption. The truth wasn't so nice.

He took off his mask and seated himself on the edge of the bed. He didn't look at her and didn't make any move to start a conversation. She knew better than to push his buttons (an angry Jack Morrison was one of the most frightening things she had ever encountered, next to an angry Winston), but they'd get nowhere if she didn't say what she needed to.

Taking a seat next to him, she placed a hand on his knee, a worried expression on her face.

"I know that I'm asking too much of you. I just…"

Jack's anger was starting to ebb away the longer he spent next to her. Away from everybody else, he was allowed to pull off the charade of Soldier 76, and in a way it was calming like nothing else was.

"You care about him. I get it."

"I ruined his life."

The look in her eyes was so saddening, and Jack understood why she had to do this. He regretted his earlier thoughts of jealousy and bitterness towards her relationship with Gabriel. He might have even apologized, if they were the type of people to talk about those kinds of things.

Instead, they were the people who had managed to ignore the elephant in the room for over a decade: their relationship.

From the moment he recruited her to as far as the present day, there wasn't anybody else in Overwatch that had the closeness or intimacy that Jack and Angela shared. She clung to him in her youth and developed unique feelings that she hadn't felt very open to share; the Strike-Commander wasn't threatening, but she felt he was so far above her, despite her high standing of medical head. A person like him couldn't be distracted by something like romance. A person like him worked for the world, and that was enough responsibility.

Yet still, there were those moments of love shared between them. Sitting on the edge of Jack's bed, he held her as she tried not to cry about Gabriel's condition. The warmth of their embrace was enough to keep her grounded for the moment.

"It's my fault he's like this," she said into his shoulder.

"Don't put the blame on yourself. He's always been like this."

They pulled away enough to look at each other, their faces so close that their foreheads touched. He cupped her cheek with his palm and she leaned into the touch. There were countless times like this between them, where they were so close that they could kiss with a slight tilt of the head, but in the years away from each other, they had forgotten the feeling.

The barriers of their connection with each other no longer stood to keep them from closing the gap, from finally meeting like they seemed destined to do.

Jack could only move forward a single centimeter before there was a knock at the door.

"Soldier, change of plans," a voice called from the other side of the closed door. Angela and Jack immediately identified him as McCree. "We'll be movin out tonight. Get downstairs ASAP, and find Mercy. She's not in the medical wing or in her room."

The two stood when McCree's footsteps faded away and Jack reached for his mask- though only putting it on after placing a light, quick kiss on Mercy's forehead. Contact like that had always been normal for them, but for some reason, Angela was dwelling on it now.

"I hope you're prepared for this."

Even though she wasn't, she had to be, so she followed without another word, wondering what would have happened if they had never been interrupted.

* * *

I really wanted to include Reaper in this chapter, but I sort of lost control and ended up here. Woops.  
Anyway. Come talk to me on tumblr spaceprompto!


	7. Change

"Why are we leaving so early?"

Mercy took a quick trip to collect her Valkyrie suit in the medical wing, where she kept it when it wasn't in use. McCree and Genji escorted her, both seeming rather tense. They had rushed her away from Jack when she came down into the main hall without much of a response to her questions. Something must have happened to compromise their plans; her suspicions only increased when they arrived in her sick bay and Winston stood there, seemingly waiting for her.

"I didn't think you'd be joining us," she said.

"Neither did I. But when I left the meeting room, I found this above the doorway."

In his large hand was a white chip, barely bigger than the fingernail on Angela's little finger. He held it in an open palm for her to pick up.

"What is this?"

"I had it scanned in the lab. According to the components inside of it, it's a transmitter. I deactivated it, but they must have heard that we're planning on meeting Gabriel."

She stared at the small, flat square between her fingers. No wonder it seemed like Talon, or at least Gabriel, had been a step ahead of them during their last mission. He'd been listening to them all along. Even if there was still a mystery of how he managed to get it to the HQ in the first place, she didn't have a doubt that he could have slipped in at any point without a trace.

"So then why are we still going through with this? If they know what we're doing, we need to cancel-"

"The plans have changed. You're no longer gathering intel."

The roundabout explanations were beginning to frustrate her. "What's happening?"

"We'll be taking Gabriel out of Talon immediately."

Immediately she wanted to say that it would be impossible, that Gabriel was just a phantom that no one would be able to contain, but that was when Winston walked to the table in the room. On top of it was a long, skinny device with a small contraption on each end, like a strange belt. When he picked it up, he took a step towards her and held it out for her to take.

"Some time ago, I created this with the intention to use it for powering down small machines. It forms a barrier around the circuitry and separates it from the rest of the machine. But if placed and locked on a person, like Tracer, the devices connected to their bodies would no longer work. And I've been thinking… We've seen Reyes freely move between corporeal and non-bodily form. Talon must have given him some device that allows him to do so."

"Are you suggesting we disengage that somehow?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing; without it, he would be nothing but mist, and they wouldn't be any closer to saving him.

"I know what you're thinking, and what I plan to do is modify it to disengage the specific programming used to let him change his form. He'll be mortal at that point, and we'll be able to incapacitate him. We can do it, but we can't waste any time. You're going to need to go back to the base camp and keep him distracted while I do the modification. Symmetra will set up a portal and we'll deliver it as soon as it's ready."

Now dismissed, Mercy, McCree and Genji went to go meet with Tracer, S76 and Symmetra. They would return to the same place where Mercy had found Gabriel, which hopefully Talon hadn't abandoned just yet, and Mercy would keep Gabriel distracted until her team could disrupt his device. It sounded easy enough, but thinking of all the variables, Angela knew that there was a high risk for failure. Especially since there was a possibility that he knew their plan.

Nonetheless, they were off. Their trip to the drop off had taken a full hour, and even then they had to be dropped relatively far from the clearing. It would be another half-hour walk until the six of them would get to the forest; a mile out was when they started to climb up and follow in the trees. Soon enough, it seemed as if Mercy were alone, though she knew her friends were above her. It was dark, cold, and only faint rustling could be heard. Nobody whispered. Nobody dared to breathe louder than near-silence.

Angela's head throbbed. She could hear the blood rushing to her ears. It was there that she'd wait.

She paced a few feet in all directions, staying within the gaze of her team but also scanning through the moonlit trees for Reaper. Given, it would be hard to see him thanks to his dark silhouette, but that wouldn't stop her from trying. And after twenty long minutes, she finally found him, tall and shadowed.

His movement was deliberate; he had known she was there. She sighed internally, nervous for both him and herself. When he came to a stop, he was ten feet away from her. She decided to break the silence.

"I thought I'd find you here."

He took a few steps forward.

"We have to talk about this. I have to know what happened to you."

"You know what you did," he retorted, slowly starting to circle around her.

"Talon got to you somehow. They changed you."

"Oh, I've always been like this."

The sarcasm dripping out of his threatening tone made her take a step back. Those were the words that Jack had spoken to her the same night. What had he seen? What else had he heard?

"You didn't think I'd let you out of my sight, did you?"

He closed the distance between them, reaching behind her ear to remove a chip even smaller than the one Winston had found. His proximity to her earned a twitch in the trees- the result of a soldier ready to pounce from above, though after the movement, the forest went completely dead. Mercy simply stared at Reyes, feeling so incredibly naive.

"I'm not surprised. You were always too busy being under Morrison's thumb to realize who your real friends were."

"I was never-"

"Spare me. That control freak never cared about you like I did. He had you around on a leash."

"Stop it."

"I know that you never told him what happened. I can only guess why."

He hadn't been referring to what she turned him into, but rather one specific night just over five years ago. It was close to the end of his first existence, when him and McCree had come back from a Blackwatch mission. If he recalled correctly, the explosion had only happened days after.

Angela knew immediately what he was talking about. She looked away from him out of shame.

Gabriel had sustained major injuries to his legs and stomach. He could still remember how surprised she looked when McCree carried him into the medical wing, barely conscious. She had stayed up with him until he could think clearly, which was so far into the night that no one else had been awake. It was just the two of them.

When he did regain full consciousness, he was only slightly sore from the injuries that had previously been there. And it wasn't as if he had never seen her to have his injuries treated or been with her on missions where she'd take care of the team on the frontlines. However, that time around, something within him surfaced. She had looked at him with such delight. Her happiness was contagious.

He kissed her that night, at first for only a soft moment, before she pulled him in and kept him close. Though she had many close moments with Jack, they were nothing but near misses. To her, it didn't seem like they would ever meet. But with Gabriel, there was no running from it. They had only continued to grow closer over the years. They spent entire nights sharing stories from their childhoods and experiences. He spent many missions trying to hold back the jealousy he felt when she and Morrison would have a moment on the battlefield. She tried not to get too emotional when Reyes was injured and called for her help. They loved each other. They were two people on a course to collision.

Even after the happy times faded, it seemed like they'd still be colliding.

"Why are you here?" he finally asked.

"I want you to come back with us," she whispered, "to come back with me."

"That's a lie."

"It's not-" she breathed in, and the air hitched in her throat. Why did this have to be so hard? "I spent five years trying to live without the people I cared about. Thinking I killed you-"

"You did."

"Thinking you'd never come back."

"Must have been hard."

She opened her eyes, the anger starting to surface. "You and Jack had been so selfish. You only thought of yourselves when you killed each other. You didn't care what was in your way! The both of you abandoned me and your team when you made the decision to let your own selfishness take control of your actions."

He didn't respond. She continued on.

"And then you never came back. You could have, but you didn't."

Sick of arguing with a disguise, Angela moved forward to remove his mask. His red eyes stared back at her, cold and unfeeling. She dropped the mask to cup his pale face in her hands. He didn't dodge the attempt nor look away from her. She tried to focus on his expression. Was there something human still behind his eyes? Was there any chance that her beloved companion could return?

"...I want you to come with me."

"Why?" He didn't even sound angry anymore.

She wanted to say that she wanted him back to fix what she had done, or to bring Overwatch back to what it used to be. But truthfully, neither was the real reason. The both of them knew that. With one hand, she removed the hood still covering his head.

"...Nothing's changed."

"I'm not a man anymore. Not the one you used to know."

"But you are. I can see it."

The temptation to join her was so great, he couldn't speak. Gabriel was a person who wanted to be wanted. If Angela decided to go such far lengths to get him back, like design an elaborate plan to recruit him, maybe there was a place for him that wasn't Talon. Then again, they had so many plans for him that he doubted he'd be able to escape easily.

"...I want to see your team come down from the trees first."

She looked back at their positions. Nobody moved. She also realized that they hadn't given her the signal that they received Winston's device, and in her heart, she felt fear. Were they even up there anymore?

"Hold on," she said, scaling a nearby tree that Genji had been positioned in. There were about four layers of branches to climb up before she would get to his position, but she already knew that he wasn't there. He would have come down; they all would have.

Angela jumped down, landing hard on her feet. Reyes noticed her discontent when she climbed yet another tree, only to jump down yet again moments later. He recovered his mask and put his hood back on, catching onto the situation. But, just as Angela was going to suggest that they look for them, Tracer seemingly came out of nowhere, shooting at Reaper.

"Stop! He's agreed to come back with us!"

"It was a trap, Mercy. They got all the others. We need to get outta here!"

Gabriel would have misted away as he thought he should, but this time, he stayed put, though ready to dodge Tracer's attacks. "It's likely you won't be able to get through Talon by yourself to save them."

"Wha', like you'd help?"

"Maybe if you said 'pretty please, with a cherry on top.'"

Mercy, not at all in the mood to joke around, grabbed the clothing of his cloak in her fists. "Please, Gabriel. We need you out there."

Tracer was still ready to fire at him within a moment's notice, but she thought she noticed a change in his posture at the question. As if he stood a little straighter, or a little more focused.

"I guess it's time for a change," his deep voice reverberated in Mercy's ears. It was sweet relief, she thought, just like the old days together on the frontlines. Having Gabriel there was giving her the strength she needed to keep calm as well as the focus to feel prepared for what they were about to do.

"Lead us, Gabriel," she said.

He took point, and the three of them prepared for battle.


	8. Lungs

Betraying the organization he had been a pivotal part of for nearly five years was far easier of a choice than Gabriel thought it would be, in part because he had been faithful to Overwatch for so long. He had to admit, though, that the entire Overwatch organization was incredibly arrogant- they all truly believed that they were the most powerful people in the world. They didn't give groups like Talon enough credit. All the death he'd seen in that place had convinced him to humble himself just a little bit.

Leading the two women at his side, he had to think out a plan- fast. They didn't have anybody to do damage behind the front lines, they didn't have anybody to block damage coming in, and they didn't have a great reach with the weapons they possessed. It meant that they had to stick together, avoid large groups, and try to take advantage of the landscape around them.

"Unholster your weapon, doc," he advised.

"Right," she muttered, holding her caduceus blaster with both hands. She never liked killing or injuring others, and Reyes knew it, but he was right. They weren't looking at much of a choice. "Do you know where the others were taken? Or even how?"

"Talon trained a group of snipers under the watch of a woman they call Widowmaker. You know her as Amélie Lacroix."

"This was 'er doin'?!" Tracer tried not to yell, but she was still visibly affected. Mercy knew that the two had a very cat-and-mouse relationship; she placed a hand on Tracer's shoulder in an attempt to calm the young woman down.

"If her division didn't kill the others, they must have all been put to sleep," Reaper continued. "Most likely to draw us out. They must know by now that I'm deflecting."

He also wanted to mention the fact that they had been going after Mercy, but there wasn't any reason to make her more scared than she needed to be.

"They listen everywhere, don't they?" Angela asked, giving him a side glance. He didn't respond, instead commenting on where the others must be.

"There's a floor underground where the captives go."

"You've been there before?"

"...A few times."

His blatant honesty, though refreshing, was slightly concerning. She'd be going into a place that she didn't spend any time in to find and save a team of four people before escaping- without being caught. She should have at least staked out the place beforehand.

They never did complete that first mission after they found Mercy. The team that was supposed to investigate the building had been called back in fear that the entire mission was too unsafe, but by now both Tracer and Mercy were regretting it. If they had found that room, they'd be in and out in no time- the two of them were always chosen to go together in more fast-paced-missions in the past. A specialty of sorts.

They resolved to follow Gabriel without a complaint or comment. Tracer was focused on looking around corners for possible patrols through the halls while Gabriel watched down the hallway behind them, making sure no one surprised them from the back. Mercy was stuck between them to provide support in the case of a firefight, but she was still trying to come to terms with working alongside Gabriel again.

It was easier on her that he wore a mask. Seeing his face again might make her even more so distracted.

Instead, she tried to think of what kind of sedative Talon used against her teammates. It had to be something fast-acting; otherwise, she would have heard struggling in the trees.

"Why didn't you get targeted, Tracer?" she asked quietly. "You know, when everyone was put to sleep."

"It missed," she pointed to the glowing blue light emanating from her chest. "Went righ' through me."

"They didn't try to take you," Mercy stated, noting all of the suspicious circumstances.

"Well, I got outta there, didn't I? Everyone wen' down at the same time. I would'a gone down too, 'cept they didn't aim righ'. I knew I was outnumbered. Bu' I came back for you-"

"Someone's coming," Reaper suddenly said, pushing the two women to go ahead. They didn't have the opportunity to be cautious and there was a possibility that they were running into more patrols, but the fact that four of them were coming from behind them in the hallway meant that they had to leave now.

The hall only went straight; there were no doors or other halls that branched off of it except for a single left turn around ten meters ahead. It was a ninety-degree corner that they couldn't waste time looking around, so they ran right through, only to see exactly what they feared.

Another four patrolmen were heading towards them, quickening their pace at the sight of the Overwatch heroes. The three retreated back around the corner so they could decide what to do. They had mere seconds before the group following them from behind would catch up. They were trapped.

"I'm taking point," Reaper announced, not seeing any other choice. He turned to Tracer. "Keep them off of her."

In response, Tracer nodded and stood in front of Mercy. Mercy herself struggled with it all, having been out of combat for far too long. "Just keep up," she told herself, though not too confidently. After all, she was good at being behind the action, not in the middle of it.

Her fears turned out to be wasted in the coming moments. The moment the two groups converged, he started to spin- shot after shot was fired into the enemy with precise aim. It was unbearably loud in the small hallway, and after several seconds of the attack, she started to see the blood.

It sprayed onto the walls and pooled on the floor, where eight bodies laid motionless. After the noise, the quiet was far too uncomfortable, and so were the eyes that looked up at her with a lifeless glaze. She wanted to vomit; she had seen death before, and was no stranger to violence, but such a concentrated dose of it for the first time in years was almost too much.

"We need to hurry. More will be here soon."

Angela broke out of her trance to look up at Gabriel with a mixture of fear, thankfulness, and disgust. Was this the man who led Blackwatch, or was this the man who had been brainwashed by Talon?

He saw it in her expression, but they simply didn't have the time to stand there. If she really wanted to talk to him about it, they would have to do it later. His hand went to her back and he gave her a light push ahead so they'd keep moving. She immediately looked down so that she wouldn't trip, and then followed him without a word or the chance to fully process what happened. Tracer followed at a close distance and kept an eye out behind her, trying to ignore the bodies they were leaving behind. They were soldiers of Talon, yes, but the former Blackwatch commander had wiped them out before Tracer could even blink. She had to question the morality of it all.

The hallway ended after another left turn. Several doors stood on both the left and right, one of which right next to a sign with a very general picture of a staircase. Their way down.

It was ten floors of uncomfortable silence later when Mercy spoke next.

"Are you sure we're in the right place?"

The door out of the stairway looked rusted and discolored. There was no sign next to it, nor was there much of a light either; the only source came from a wall sconce a full floor above. Heavy shadow filled the area. Angela was never one to be afraid of the dark, but in a place like this, it was making her tense.

"Yes," he responded as he opened the door. "Don't fall behind. It'll be dark from here."

He was right. As they made their way through the door, the only thing in sight were several red sconces up ahead, and they were spread out to the point where some corners were in complete darkness. The women could only wonder why it needed to be kept so dark, but then they remembered what Gabriel said earlier. This floor was a place for prisoners and captives. Wasn't it fitting for them to be in the darkness?

It comforted her that the three of them were closing in on where her friends probably were, but it was a long way down. She had the urge to switch out her pistol for her staff in preparation for whatever injuries they may have, but one look at Gabriel was all she needed to grip her weapon even tighter. They weren't safe yet- Angela wasn't sure if she was completely safe from Gabriel either, nor if she could stand her own in a fight against him, but she hoped that Tracer was keeping an eye out for her.

She went by her hearing for the most part; they all did. They took soft steps so as to be able to hear anybody else that may have been walking with them or towards them, but other than their own, there wasn't a single sound. Because of this, it was easy to stay close to Gabriel and Lena, but there was a small part of her that couldn't stop thinking about another person waiting for them to pass by a corner dark enough to hide a person from sight.

Her thoughts were interrupted by banging in the distance. It wasn't a gun or an explosive, rather, it sounded as if something very heavy was being dropped- over and over again. She felt a hand on her shoulder, none other than Reaper, motioning for her to stop. The banging continued in a steady rhythm.

"Stay behind me," he ordered, moving her so that she'd walk nearly attached to his back. He was not only taller, but also wider, so she'd be shielded from any oncoming attacks. Within such a close proximity to him, she felt instantly safe, even given the fact that she just witnessed him murder eight people within seconds of each other.

After all this time, she still trusted him.

They steadily neared the source of the banging, which seemed to be behind a door with no handle. In spite of its non-accessible entrance, Reaper walked up to it and tapped a hidden panel where the handle should have been, exposing a holographic number pad. From there, he entered a series of numbers, and the door popped open. Mercy didn't want to know how he input the lock code so easily or how he knew exactly where the "captive" room was; she'd be content in her ignorance. For now.

The banging only got louder when the door opened. When Angela peeked around Reaper's arm at what the source was, she leapt out from her cover. There were piles of wooden crates surrounding the room in a disordered fashion, and it seemed like more of a warehouse than a captivity room. But surely enough, next to the wall of the room was Soldier 76.

"Jack!" she whispered. His mask had been taken off but his eyes and mouth were covered with a heavy cloth. The source of his banging had been his feet kicking against loose metal in the wall next to where he was lying. He must have thought it was a door. Whatever the case, he stopped kicking the second he heard Angela's voice.

Quickly, she knelt by him and took his blindfold off as well as the cloth around his mouth. His hands and feet were held together by a carbon fiber mechanism that she knew had to be unlocked, but at least he could see and speak now, even if the only light was the dim red sconce that she had seen throughout the entire floor.

If Jack Morrison could be tied up and held hostage like this, there was no doubt in her mind that they could have been killed. So why all of the trouble?

"Are you alright?" he asked her as he tried to sit up.

"Don't worry about me, are you hurt? Do you feel any pain?"

"No, but no one else is awake."

That was when she noticed the stray bodies behind him, further hidden by the shadow of low lighting. If he hadn't called her attention to them, she never would've known. And then she noticed that Jack was staring at Tracer and Reaper behind her, waiting for an explanation.

"Tracer wasn't affected like you all were. And… we have a new recruit ready to help."

"...What?"

Angela was silent, further inspecting Jack's restraints.

"What do you mean a new recruit?" he pushed, and she sighed.

"He's decided to help."

"So he's coming quietly," Jack narrowed his eyes at the tall shadow. Not that he could even see much.

"Says the one tied up on the ground," Gabriel retorted.

"Stop it," she commanded, and there wasn't another word. Instead, Tracer and Reaper went to work on removing the cloth around the others' faces. While they did so, Jack leaned in to whisper to Mercy.

"How can you trust him so much already? He's the reason we're here."

"He wants to help. He willingly came with us to save you."

"It's too suspicious."

"He dispatched numerous Talon troops to get us down here. He wouldn't have done that if this was a trap."

Jack looked back at the shadow of Reaper, who was just finished pulling McCree into a sitting position. Symmetra and Genji were already sitting upright, and Lena was attempting to take care of their restraints. Unfortunately, it seemed as if they couldn't be broken open.

"I don't trust it. We have to be careful."

"We will be-"

Her voice was cut off when a single, ear-splitting bang ruptured the stagnant air. She immediately identified it as a sniper's shot, but it seemed that she noticed it far too late. Next to the momentary deafness, there was also an absence of air in her throat and a chill that went straight through her body. On the right side of her chest, a searing pain spread into her lung. She collapsed on top of Jack.

The sound seemed to have woken up McCree and Genji. It took them a few moments, but once they could feel their fingers and feet again, they struggled against their restraints. Tracer went to Angela's side and dragged her behind the cover of a nearby crate. Reyes was seemingly nowhere nearby.

"Hey, can you 'ear me? Come on, stay awake!"

The bullet went directly through her body, puncturing her lung. As the seconds ticked by, she could almost feel the blood pooling in her system.

More shots were fired in the distance, but not at Mercy or any of her team, and it sounded more like a shotgun than a sniper rifle. Everybody struggled with their restraints at the sight and situation. Tracer didn't want to leave Angela's side, but from the sound of it, more of Talon's forces were coming in.

Now that she was awake, Symmetra was able to form a structure from her palm and place it next to where they all laid: a teleporter. Her last one had been destroyed moments before her vision had gone black, but now it sat behind cover. All they had to do was get to their feet and they could go back to their HQ.

Mercy's attention was only half focused on what was happening around her. The wound was too painful and she was starting to get lightheaded. Her fingers shook when she tried to pull Lena closer to her own face.

"Get Gabriel," she managed to whisper. "Otherwise-"

More gunshots went off in the distance. The team was already on their feet and were ready to slip through the portal as soon as Angela went through. She gasped for breath to finish what she wanted to say.

"-this was all for nothing."

Lena stared down at Mercy for a few seconds, remembering all the bruises and broken bones that had been fixed in her sick bay. She remembered the days of Old Overwatch when they were all as close as a family. Part of her didn't want to trust Gabriel or allow him to be taken back to the organization, but if Angela felt so strongly about trusting him, she couldn't allow her wish to go unanswered.

"Watch 'er, I'm goin' in after 'im!"

Mercy was left to sit up against a crate. Genji went to her side immediately with Jack soon to follow, with McCree and Symmetra keeping an eye out for anybody that would disturb them. Genji continued to try against his restraints and came to a morbid conclusion-

The cuffs on his hands would come off if he broke his thumbs.

They could probably be repaired relatively easily since a great deal of him was made up of metal and wires; Angela would have protested if she could, but she couldn't, and Genji owed her a lot. He owed her an entire body. Two thumbs were only a dent in his debt.

The two appendages came out of their metal casings relatively easily, still dangling from the wires in his hand. Without them to stand in the way, however, he slipped out of his handcuffs, ready to carry her whenever Tracer and Reaper returned. The cuffs on his ankles weren't so simple to get out of, but the holding strength in his inhuman calves created enough tension to make small rips in the material. He then moved to a sitting position on the ground, swinging his legs to either side of a pole that was supporting the roof. The cuff snapped with the created pressure.

It had all been done within the span of half a minute. Everyone else looked on with disbelief. They all had to admit, his determination was admirable.

"Doctor Ziegler, can you hear me?" his attention went to the bleeding woman at his side. She merely blinked up at him, completely void of the energy to speak.

Meanwhile, Tracer was dealing with her own problems.

Talon forces came at her in droves. She could keep up, but only by teleporting around like mad, and even then she couldn't escape a few grazes and cuts. Her mission was to catch up to Reaper as fast as she could; as she understood it, he left the rest of them behind to hold back the coming enemies. While she was grateful, she was also a bit miffed that she had to go so far to get him back. Couldn't he have just stayed around the perimeter?

She found a staircase up to a higher floor, where the sound of a shotgun was still cutting the air.

Upon arrival, she saw that she now stood on a balcony with two off-shooting hallways. From the one on the left, Reaper walked backwards towards her while shooting his engagers- two large, muscular men with heavy guns. She flanked Reaper and helped him from behind, nailing the men in their knees and arms to weaken them while he delivered the final blows.

"We need'a get outta here!" she yelled to him. He nodded.

She dove off of the balcony and rolled onto the floor below, where her friends were hopefully still sitting. Once Reaper was at her side, they ran back, until something moved from the corner of her vision. Quickly, she pushed Gabriel to the side and flung herself the opposite way, the both of them narrowly missing a sniper's bullet. They were so close now, and they could see the faint glow of a teleporter nearby. It would only take seconds for them to return home.

"Personne n'échappe à mon regarde."

At the sound of her voice, Lena boosted herself back to the balcony where her nemesis stood taunting her. As long as Lacroix stood, she was a threat to her friends, and she knew she could be a distraction for as long as they needed to get through the teleporter.

Genji picked up Angela as quickly and gingerly as he could manage and supported S76 with an arm to help him through the teleporter. Reaper hoisted both McCree and Symmetra over his shoulders, but didn't walk through the blue light until he saw Lena break away from her fight with Widowmaker. The moment she ran through the invention, she stuck it with a pulse mine, and the path was destroyed just behind her.

* * *

This took me far too long to write.  
But hey, I feel good about it.


	9. Try To Forgive Yourself

Amélie Lacroix sat in a large, padded black chair, with crossed legs and an unreadable expression. She stared straight ahead at the man that called the meeting with her. They had been silent since he invited her inside, though she knew why she was there.

The man seemed to be finding the right words to say that could properly articulate his thoughts.

"To my knowledge," he began, his fingers interlacing, "Angela Ziegler was in this building last night. As was Gabriel Reyes. Yes?"

Lacroix nodded silently. Two large hands slapped the desk between them and the man suddenly leaned forward, earning a small jump from the sniper. A neck vein protruded from his neck and his eyes opened wide.

"Then why are they not here now?!"

Widowmaker swallowed before answering.

"Reyes defected. He was aiding the escape of Doctor Ziegler."

"We had over two dozen patrols on that floor alone last night. You're telling me that Reyes is the only reason you couldn't capture her?"

The woman didn't feel like explaining the situation involving Tracer, so she nodded again, her expression unchanging. The man slapped his hands down again. Whether it was from frustration or an attempt to frighten her, she wasn't entirely sure.

"I'm giving you one more chance with this, Lacroix. If you don't capture her next time I send you out, you're not going to like the consequences."

She never looked down from her boss, nor did she find him that intimidating, but such was the result of her endless brainwashing and experimentation. She was a woman without emotion or regret, so it was difficult to look back on her actions with disappointment. However, she knew full well that her life would be incredibly different if she lost her position in Talon, so she nodded in agreement.

"...You're dismissed."

Back at Overwatch Headquarters, Mercy rested on one of her own medical beds with several needles and tubes coming out of her body. By her side was Genji Shimada, who had carried her all the way to the medical wing without his thumbs fully attached. Even when Torbjörn commanded the cyborg to allow him to fix the metal casings, he refused to leave the room so that he could watch over Angela.

When he brought her in, her skin was almost paper-white and her pulse was so faint, he thought she actually might die from her injuries,even though his knowledge of her condition told him otherwise.

For a while, it was only him and her; she breathed instructions into his ear as to which equipment to use and where to put it on her body. But first, he had to take off her Valkyrie suit.

He didn't think about how form-fitting her clothing was beneath her suit, nor did he think twice about taking off her shirt to expose the wound. What he did notice and take concern about was her expression and the very clear amounts of pain she was feeling. She didn't make much noise because she couldn't breathe well, but whenever her fingers would curl or her nose would scrunch up, he cringed inside. He hated seeing her like this, even though he knew she would be fine.

Genji was one of the few people who knew about her condition. No one else had a reason to know, but back in the days of Old Overwatch, Genji did, and she shared a piece of herself that helped him to humble him as the years went on.

She understood his pain about the changes in his body from man to machine. After so many experiments on herself with nanobiotics and RCR, her body had a steady cell replacement rate. It was the reason why she looked so young and why she would survive her collapsed lung. She admitted to him back then that there were points in her life when she wondered if she was even human anymore, or what would happen when her time came to die. She was more like him than he imagined. It gave him peace after so much anger and resentment towards her actions.

Several people attempted to visit her, but all of them were turned away by the Shimada brother. He had even gone so far as to lock the doors to the medical wing; perhaps it was a bit too far, but he couldn't deny that he felt incredibly protective over her when she was so vulnerable. There wasn't a single person that couldn't break down the door is they wanted to, but no one would dare intrude.

He chose not to sleep, instead laying down in the sick bed next to hers so that he could hear her if she whispered for him, but also not crowd over her and make her uncomfortable. It gave him plenty of time to think about his life and his actions. Though he regretted the days when he started in Overwatch, since he gave Angela such a hard time, he found an appreciation for her efforts under the teaching of Zenyatta. Seeing her again had become something to celebrate, not dread- even if he did end up spending his first night at the Overwatch HQ in a hospital bed, not sleeping.

She went several hours unconscious, which wasn't too surprising. It must have been at around four in the morning when she woke up.

"Genji?"

"Doctor, how are you feeling?"

He pushed off of his bed and stood up next to her bed, ready to take whatever instruction she might have given him. He was surprised to see that she only reached for his hand and gave him a light smile.

"Fine, thank you."

She sat up carefully from the bed, noticing that she wasn't wearing much under the thin blanket he had covered her with. Then again, her wound had been in such a place that it called for him to remove the things in the way- including her shirt- so she shrugged it off.

Her blue eyes blinked a few times in an attempt to focus on her stand-in nurse. He held out an arm to support her in case she needed to lie back down, but she ended up fine after all that happened that night. Sore and tired, but fine.

She lowered the blanket to take a look at her injury, but it wasn't much of anything anymore. Puckered, pink skin was clinging around the tube feeding from her damaged lung, meant to drain out the blood that was pooled up inside of it. She pulled it out, to Genji's surprise, and her skin nearly snapped back together to leave a light pink circle on the surface. It was all that remained on her body to remind her that she nearly lost a lung- which of course was repaired in due time. There didn't seem to be anything that couldn't be fixed within her body, but Mercy was still glad that Genji was there to help her.

While she also removed the needles in her arm and hand that were attached to an IV bag, the cyborg stood next to her, watching and not knowing what to do with himself. She seemed fine now, save for being a bit weak.

"Do you need anything?" he asked as she went to stand. When she stumbled a bit, he supported her by her arm.

"I want to go see the rest of them."

"Doctor Ziegler, it's four in the morning and you aren't wearing a shirt."

She looked down at her own body to see that she was only wearing spandex shorts and a black bra. It took her a moment to process this information until she could come to the conclusion to ask for a shirt; before she could open her mouth, however, Genji had already grabbed the tank top she was wearing before. Angela pulled it over her head, only to realize that it was blood-stained and there was a gaping hole in it beneath her right breast, leaving the pink mark on her skin visible.

Genji held out his elbow for her to lean on while she walked out of her medical room, raising an eyebrow when she saw that he had to unlock the door. She decided not to question it, however, because waiting outside of the door on the benches against the walls was her team.

Most of them were sleeping (a couple of them even snoring) but a small number of the group raised their heads when the door opened.

Among them, Jack was the first to respond to it, immediately standing up and walking over to her with long strides before wrapping her in an embrace. He tried not to be rough in fear of irritating her injury, since he had no knowledge of her condition, but it was tight enough to earn a short breath out of the woman he was holding. She let go of Genji and he took a hesitant step back.

"Hey," was all he could manage to say before pulling back so he could look at her face. She seemed pale, if anything, but altogether healthy. He took notice of the lack of bandages and injury.

Part of him knew better than to question Angela's medical ability, but he had seen her barely conscious and white as a sheet. He saw the agonizing amount of blood pooling out of her body mere hours ago.

"How are you not…?"

He let go of her to kneel and inspect where her injury was. She reached for Genji once again to keep her balance. Gabriel stood from where he was sitting and her eyes jumped to his mask, very surprised that he was there and awake.

"It's almost like it was never there."

"The wonders of modern medicine," she joked, looking away from Gabriel. She could feel her face growing hot. "I'll be back to normal in the morning."

"Like magic, doc," Reyes commented. She kept her eyes down at Jack, even as her old friend came to loom over her shoulder. "Like nothing happened."

Jack stood to face Gabriel, and Angela gave a deep sigh. She really didn't have the energy for this. Were they going to have to be separated at all times? Was she going to have to watch over them like they were wild animals?

"She's too tired to listen to your petty attitude," Jack commented.

"I think she's too tired to act like your pet," Reaper countered.

Angela had barely seen them for two minutes, and already she had enough. "I can speak for myself, and I'm too tired to deal with either of you."

They stared as she walked off with Gabriel, who knew that she probably wanted to be taken to her room. She enjoyed the quiet, but the two men she left behind weren't so content. When she was out of the room, they whispered viciously to each other so they wouldn't wake the others.

"Angela may have wanted you back here, but no one else did. Keep that in mind."

"You talk big for someone who isn't a commander anymore. Last time I checked, the monkey ran the show here."

"I don't care who runs what, I'll kill you again if you step out of line."

"You can try, but your girlfriend made that hard to do."

"She's a doctor, don't you have any respect left?"

"Not all of us have a lifetime supply."

"This has always been a problem with you. You never understood that your place is beneath most people."

"Not beneath you, Morrison. I'd much rather be beneath Angela."

Jack knew better than to let Gabriel get under his skin, especially after such an immature joke, but his fist swung for the other man before he could control himself. The only contact he made was with the air however; when he blinked, Gabriel was ten feet away. Probably laughing to himself.

"Getting a little frustrated?" Reyes taunted. Jack just glared. "Or maybe you're just scared that she doesn't have to settle for second best anymore?"

"You're nothing but a ghost she brought back out of pity."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself."

Jack was left alone among the sleeping people, except for Tracer, who had just woken up. It took her a few moments, but she was quick on her feet.

"Is she alrigh'?"

"Huh? Oh- yeah, the injury was nearly gone when she came out. Genji took her to her room a few minutes ago."

"Then why are you still 'ere?" Tracer laughed and elbowed him lightly. His face turned pink under his visor.

"I don't know what you mean," he muttered, but she still smiled.

"If I were you, I would'a gon with 'er."

"I don't think she wanted that."

"You've been 'er role model for years. Of course she did."

He stared at the young woman for a long moment before she made a shooing motion with her hands. With hesitant steps, he walked away from the medical wing with Tracer's approval, and made his way to Angela's room. She was right; they'd been close for so long that there had to be a part of her that wanted to see him even after his confrontation with Gabriel. Their moment in his room hadn't been forgotten either.

Back in her room, Angela was having trouble sleeping.

After Genji walked her back, she insisted that he get some sleep. She appreciated that he watched over her as she healed, but she needed time to herself. Thoughts of her actions ran wildly through her head next to what the ramifications might be. She risked her own life along with the lives of her team in order to go after Gabriel, a man who had been fully willing to kill everyone a week prior. Only after seeing how easy it was for Jack to start an argument, she began to doubt her decision.

But then she heard a knock on her door, and she was ripped out of her daydream.

"Come in," she called out from her bed. Seeing as how she wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon, she was willing to accept visitors.

When Jack opened her door, her face fell.

"Hey," he greeted her, but she was silent. He shut the door behind him and took a seat on the edge of her bed, where she stared silently. Part of him wanted to leave her alone, but he remembered what Tracer said and continued on with what he wanted to say, taking his mask off before speaking to her. It was becoming a habit when they were alone.

"I'm sorry for what I said."

"You're going to kill each other again."

Her statement threw him off-balance. He blinked at her.

"I made a mistake, Jack. I never should have brought him back here knowing what happened to us before."

He wanted to be angry, but none of it would surface. "Why did you?"

"Knowing that he was our enemy was killing me. As if Blackwatch wasn't bad enough. And the things I've done to him-"

"You have to stop obsessing over that. You saved his life."

"It's more like a curse."

"You're causing yourself nothing but grief."

She looked away from him. His words were annoying, but they were also true, and she hated admitting that it was doing herself no good by being so distraught over the condition that Gabriel was in. While she sought to fix it, she also needed redemption; maybe that was why she repented the act so much.

Jack scooted closer to her and she was reminded of the kiss they nearly shared.

"I hate seeing you this way," he explained. She nodded.

"It doesn't feel so good either."

"Try to forgive yourself, Angela."

She took his hand; it comforted her in a way she couldn't really explain. "I think I'm getting too old to deal with all of this," she tried to say, but he chuckled at the statement. "What?"

"You don't look nearly as old as I know you are. Anybody else would think that you're closer to Lena's age than mine."

"In all fairness, you do have a few gray hairs."

He snorted and nodded, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. She smiled in turn. Suddenly she felt very glad to have him there.

Hints of a sunrise crept in through her window and the half-closed curtains. The dull blue light shone on her floor to expose the shadows on the faces of the two. He thought about how she still looked so perfect even though she had nearly lost her life. She raised her free hand to trace over the scars he earned in her absence, thinking that he was still just as handsome as he always has been.

Their moment came again when she leaned her face against his shoulder, and he looked down at her like she'd float away at any minute. There was nothing quite like having her so close to him.

But something was still bothering him.

She lifted her head and he thought about how perfect it all was, her face inches from his and her hand still in his. He'd hate himself if he ruined it but he could feel a question rising from his throat, and before her lips met his he asked her-

"He loves you, doesn't he?"

Angela froze in place, her eyes rising from his lips to his eyes and he could see the surprise in her expression. Like a deer caught in headlights. In his heart he knew it was true, and he braced for the impact of a lie. However, it never came. She gathered the courage to tell him the truth.

"He used to."

"Do you love him?"

"...I used to."

It was good enough of an answer to satisfy his curiosity and sanity, and she hadn't turned away from him just yet, so he cupped her face and pulled her into a kiss that had been building for the better part of twenty years.

Jack was beyond grateful that during this time of night, nobody was around to interrupt them. Even if the initial kiss lasted no more than a couple of seconds, he couldn't find himself regretting the action, and neither could Angela. That was why she gripped his jacket and pulled him back again, her lips moving slowly against his. She could feel the scar that went down the corner of his mouth, but she didn't find herself caring. His lips were soft and warm, comforting her in a way that nothing else could.

His hands felt their way to her back, earning a slight gasp from the blonde. Her thoughts became nothing more than a jumble of feelings- excitement, relief, and even a small dose of fear. There were few points in her life where she felt so comfortable and safe while being so vulnerable all the same; she was clear of worry or grief, and she also immediately noticed the way her lips were tingling when he pulled away.

"It's late. Neither of us have slept-"

"Don't leave just yet."

She watched him blink and his head tilt to the side. Her heartbeat raced.

"Please?" she continued, placing another kiss on his neck. In silent agreement, he returned the action, and the same feeling from before filled her chest. He was as careful as he could manage to be with her, but he could only hold back so much as her kisses got deeper and her breath continued to quicken. Hands with the strength of a super-soldier were likely to leave bruises on her fragile body, but she didn't seem to notice.

He didn't suggest leaving again.

* * *

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Hoped you liked this one!


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